


Destiny Intertwined

by LeeMorrigan



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Andy and Quynh together, Andy is the mom, Biracial Character, Booker is guilty, But she's also a boss, F/F, F/M, Feels, Feelz, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I couldn't make Quynh the bad guy, Joe and Nicky are battle husbands, Lost teammate, M/M, Nightmares, Nile is just the kid, Quynh and Andy are meant to be together, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Romance, Team Dynamics, True Love, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, all the feels, also known as Andy and Booker drink too much, and hopeless romantics, and lonely, and needs a hug, and sad, and the boss, references to death by drowning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25661698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: What if Booker hadn't been 'the new guy' all these years, and there had been another, whose death was overshadowed by the more dramatic and torturous deaths Quynh experienced over the years, thus blinding Nile until recently? How will Nile react to finding out she is the 7th Immortal running around in the world rather than the 6th? And how will Booker deal with not one former teammate, but two appearing in the same week? Let's find out, shall we?
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Nile Freeman, Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Quynh | Noriko, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Original Female Character, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nile Freeman & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nile Freeman & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Nile Freeman & Quynh | Noriko, Quynh | Noriko/Andy | Andromache of Scythia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 97





	1. Seeing Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Well the show is about people who die to awaken their immortality and then die over and over without staying dead till centuries (or millennia) later, so it's some heavy stuff. Mentions injuries, nightmares, drowning, over-indulgence in alcohol, loneliness, loss of family, abandonment issues, the team dealing with sexism/racism/other prejudices over the years, and the constant fear of discovery and/or losing each other.
> 
> Notes: I've only seen the movie a couple times at this point but I love it, and these characters. I'm adding another immortal who fits in between Booker and Nile age-wise, and is bi-racial with a history that means she's seen some of the nastier parts of American/Canadian history before she joined the Old Guard.

France – Two Minutes After the Movie Ended

Booker just stared. Quynh was here. Right in front of him. After centuries of being a question mark, her only connection to the team having been Andy’s memories and Booker’s nightmares.

“Quynh?”, he asked, still processing.

“Sebastien le Livre. Booker. Fourth member of Andromache’s team.”

“Yes. How… how are you here?”

She set aside her now-empty glass of water, then almost stalked over to Booker. He had put his gun down, though he found himself still on edge. On high alert, his finger dangerously close to the trigger. They couldn’t die, but if she had bad intentions towards the others, Booker had no problem putting enough holes in her to allow him a chance to put her back in a box.

“Are you afraid of me, Booker?”

“You’re almost as old as Andy, and I’ve seen what she can do.”

Quynh smiled. She was small, compared to Booker, though he knew that would more likely work in her favor than his. Andy was often under-estimated because while tall, she was on the slimmer side and female, leading many men to think they could overpower her. And she hadn’t been locked away to drown over, and over, for centuries.

Quynh slowly made a single circle around Booker. He did not spin to meet her gaze, he let her circle him. When she came back to stand in front of him, she looked him down and up, her eyes rising meeting his.

“You are not quite what I expected. I saw your death.”

She shuddered.

“Your children… they did not understand. Your final thoughts were of them.”

“Yours were always of Andy.”

She nodded.

“I love her. Have since that first night.”

“In the desert, by a fire, after she found you baked under the blistering sun. She’s described it a time or two.”

“How drunk was she for that?”, Quynh said with a smile, her eyes a bit damp.

Booker swallowed a lump in his throat at the mention of Andy’s being drunk to talk about Quynh. Not like Joe and Nicky.

“She was… very drunk, but only for a moment or two.”

“Millennia will build quite a tolerance.”

On that, Booker could not disagree. Considering his own ability to drink barrels of alcohol without being terribly affected and not-yet having reached a single millennia.

“Take me to them.”

“There’s a new member of the team.”

“I know. A girl, beautiful, young, determined.”

“Nile. Marine, uh… they are a branch of the military for a country called the United States.”

Quynh held up a hand.

“I know. In the months since my release, I have studied up. I have gaps, no doubt.”

“Considering how good your English is, I should have guessed you were caught up.”

She offered a wry grin.

“Indeed. Now, take me to Andy and the others.”

“That’ll take a few days.”

“Why? Is this not the digital age where everyone can be found in a few… key strokes?”

“Normal people, yes. Not us. We avoid being noticed and now, well Andy recruited a friend to help erase our tracks. Nile gave me a way to contact her but it isn’t quick.”

“I have spent centuries drowning over and over, Booker. Do not speak to me of things that are not-quick.”

He wiped a hand over a sweaty, tired face.

“I’ll contact Nile and tell her that you’re here. Andy and the others will overlook my punishment to come collect you.”

“Punishment?”, she inquired.

“I betrayed the team, nearly got them stuck being lab rats for the rest of their days. Almost got Andy killed.”

He saw the fire flash in her eyes and was sure. She still loved Andy. She meant the team no harm, she wanted to go home. For them, ‘home’ was where the others were.

“Nile rescued all four of us, got us free so we could get Andy out of there.”

“Why would Andy need so much help?”

“She’s….. she’s lost…”

Quynh’s hand came to her mouth, a small gasp escaping.

“She is mortal.”

He nodded, still grappling with that himself. In a hundred years she’d be gone. He would never see her again.

“I’ll contact Nile. You take the bedroom, I’ll sleep out here on the sofa till they can come get you.”

That said, Booker moved over to the small kitchen and reached behind the microwave to retrieve a small flip phone. He typed out a text for Nile to find the next time she was able to check her service she got Copley to set up for her.

_Quynh is here. She wants to see Any, Nicky, Joe, and you. Will bu in small town south of Rome- Nicky will know it. Contact me when you get this and when you are a day away._

He put the phone back in place. Then, he sought out a bottle. It was going to be a long few days.

~*~*~*~*~

Nile looked at the message again. Booker had to be drunk. No. She sighed. None of the team were capable of getting _that_ drunk anymore.

“Nile?”

She spun, the phone behind her back as she looked up at Nicky. He looked to where her hand was obviously hidden behind her, then back up to her eyes with a soft expression. He probably thought she was stalking an old lover or relative on Facebook.

“Dinner’s ready and Andy is threatening to eat yours.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He nodded, “Once you are finished.”

When he stepped away, she was sure he thought she was social media stalking someone. He wasn’t completely wrong. She had set up a small page for Booker to be able to contact her when he needed or wanted to.

Pulling up her smart phone, Nile typed a message to Booker. She had to type quickly and wasn’t sure how this would go over with the team. She would wait till after dinner or they would probably never get Andy to eat. The woman was looking a bit pale and drawn, and would need some more rest and to take better care of herself.

_Received message. Will break news to everyone. Stay safe, good luck._

With that, Nile slipped the phone back into her rear pocket and turned to go to dinner. This was not going to be easy.

~*~*~*~*~

Andy looked at Nile in total disbelief.

“Quynh is in Italy with Booker!”, Joe echoed in loud shock.

Nicky looked between Andy and Nile. He reached gently to catch his husband’s palm, intertwining their fingers to anchor Joe. He couldn’t imagine being parted from Joe as Andy had been from Quynh. He wanted Andy to have her space to deal with this.

“How long have you known?”

“Booker’s message came through just before dinner.”

“Why didn’t you say so right away?”, Joe asked.

“She was making sure Andy ate and was relaxed in the den with us.”, Nicky answered, a soft smile for Nile to let her know he had her back.

She gave him a small nod before turning back to Andy. Andy, thankfully, was almost-smiling with tears in her beautiful green eyes.

“Quynh’s in Italy with Booker.”

“Guess he was the easiest to find or the closest, maybe. He and I are the only ones that were still having dreams about her, so it may have been easier finding he or I, than the three of you.”

Nicky and Joe exchanged a look, both recalling something that had not been shared with Nile. Not yet, anyway.

“Tell Booker we’ll be there in two days.”

Nile smiled.

“He said Nicky would know the town. It’s South of Rome, he said.”

Nicky shook his head with a slight groan as Joe and Andy both smiled, though tearful.

“He would stay there. Alright, two days ladies and my love. Let’s get started on our packing.”

He tugged Joe by the hand, leaving Nile and Andy alone. It was a short walk back to their shared bedroom. Joe did not speak until Nicky had closed the door behind them and moved to get the first case to pack.

“When do you think Nile is going to realize about Shandiin?”

“Soon, there won’t be a choice.”, Joe answered.

“When I realized she was still talking to Booker, I thought he might tell her.”

Joe shook his head.

“Booker acts like she never existed.”

Nicky sighed.

“I hate this town.”

Joe looked up, surprised.

“I thought you loved Edinburg?”

“Not this town we’re in, I mean where we’re going.”

Joe nodded, well-remembering why Nicky hated the small, mostly inconsequential village just south of Rome. Reaching out, he tugged Nicky to him and Nicky responded, his body fluidly slipping into the space in front of Joe. Their eyes met as they had millions of times before. Joe still felt as if something sparked inside him every time he looked into Nicky’s eyes and found them staring back with that intensity and warmth he knew as well as his own voice.

“I love you.”, he said in his native tongue.

Nicky smiled, leaning to press a soft kiss at the corner of Joe’s mouth.

“As I love you.”, Nicky answered back in his own.

~*~*~*~*~

Booker walked down to the local grocery shop. He needed some food for Quynh and something to drink for himself. Nile had written back and he knew to expect the team in the morning. He needed some liquid fortitude to get through till then.

Halfway to the store, the hairs on the back of his neck stood and he found himself casting glances back over his shoulder. Someone was watching him. Possibly following him.

He should have been anonymous. Copley would hide all their tracks, even Booker’s. No one should have been able to get this close without Copley at least alerting them.

Once he had gotten the grocery items, he would take the long, complicated route home. The last thing he needed was some sort of fight to break out and leave him with the choice to keep Quynh somewhere that had been compromised so that the team could find them first thing in the morning, or take her to safety in another location, thus delaying the reunion with Andy.

It took very little time in the store to get the items he needed. His kitchen had mostly been stocked with alcohol and microwavable dinners that often blew the breaker on his rental. Inside the store, he had felt confident no one was staring or following him. Yet the moment he stepped outside onto the street, he felt the eyes fall back on him.

“Alright.”, he muttered as he changed plans.

There was a walkway over a stream and right on the other side of it, there were three turns that all split into multiple streets and alleyways. It was a perfect place to disappear and the bottleneck whomever might be following him.

Booker waited. A tourist couple passed, followed by a man in a suit talking loudly into his cellular phone. None of them set off any alarm bells for Booker. After living this long, his skill for knowing when someone was a threat, was well honed.

He continued to wait a while before easing out into the sunlight. Booker still couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. Perhaps having Quynh show up as she had, and knowing Copley was keeping an eye out, had made him more paranoid than usual.

After a few more minutes without anyone threatening coming through or any hint of who his stalker might be, Booker decided to get back to his apartment. As dangerous as Quynh might be in a fight, he had no desire to leave her alone any longer than he had to. Copley didn’t know about her to shield her movements and she knew only the barest essentials of the modern world.

One block away from his apartment, Booker turned the corner into a spacious and generally empty courtyard. Except today it had a single occupant. Female, about 5’10, with mile-long legs clad in fashionable slacks, huge sunglasses obscuring her eyes, but sporting a small smile he would have known anywhere. While Andy, Nicky, and Joe had mostly dreamed of her death over 150 years ago, Booker had often dreamed of the eyes and smile she saw in the mirror minutes before her death.

He approached slowly. Until a moment ago, he had thought her gone. Dead. Lost.

She couldn’t really be here, he was sure. He had lost her years ago. France, 1914, in what was known as No Man’s Land. Two ghosts didn’t appear in the same week. Not outside of so-called Classic Literature, at least.

“Shandiin?”, he whispered.

~*~*~*~*~

Nile looked out the window with her forehead resting against the cool glass. They had opted to take a bus for the last leg of the trip. Andy was asleep in the seat across the isle from Nile, her bag pulled up to sling her legs over so she could sleep reclined and propped but still facing the interior. Nicky and Joe were asleep in each other’s arms, Nicky’s jacket providing a blanket for them and Joe’s a pillow behind Nicky’s head.

It had only been a few months but Nile was starting to understand Booker’s point in the lab. With her fellow marines, she had been part of a team. A brotherhood. They were all friends, all willing to die for one another, but most of them were friends. It hadn’t been until she died and didn’t stay dead, that fractures appeared in those bonds.

Before that, she’d had her family and friends. People she grew up with, old classmates she had stayed in touch with, even her old preacher Reverend Graham. Now she had four strangers who were becoming a team to her, perhaps one day they would be family. For now, she watched as Andy desperately held herself together on the road to her lost-lover and as Joe and Nicky seemed constantly entangled. Even in a fight, the two of them were two halves of a whole, always anchored to one another.

Nile was alone. Truly, utterly alone. The other three could measure their ages in centuries- Andy in millennia. Nile wasn’t 30 yet.

Not for the first time of late, Nile found herself wondering what it would be like to be able to say she had been walking the earth 500 years ago. What technology, architecture, travel, and even people would look like by then. Andy would be gone, but she wondered about Joe and Nicky. Would they live another four or five thousand years? Would it eventually be just she and Booker, as the two youngest?

“Quit thinking so loud, you’ll wake the boys.”

Nile raised her head to look over at Andy, who was smirking with her eyes closed and looking almost completely asleep.

“Sorry.”

Andy’s smirk widened a bit.

“Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep.”

Nile nodded, despite Andy’s eyes still being closed. She turned her attention back to the window, watching the countryside passing by. Italy had not been on her bucket list, then again she had only half-expected to ever get back to America in one piece, let alone face the prospect of having centuries ahead of her to spend traveling.

Joe muttered something in his sleep. Nile tilted her head, straining to listen. It was a prayer, she thought, in his mother tongue. She smiled. Even in sleep, his words sounded beautiful and faithful. Nile touched the gold cross at her neck, running her finger over it as she silently offered up her own prayer for their team, including Booker and Quynh.


	2. Meals Shared Are a Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly the team sharing meals, space, and time. Nile gets to know Shandiin, Booker gets to let out some of his guilt/anguish over his actions and what they almost cost him, Joe and Nicky get to be awesome, Andy and Quynh finally get some alone time (And sleep), Joe plays Cupid a little bit, there are pancakes, and there aren't enough beds in their rented villa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: I mean aside from what all was in the movie (immortality/mortality, kidnapping, drowning, etc.) being brought up, probably survivor's guilt, bed-sharing, and dealing with the issues of getting reacquainted with your family and friends.
> 
> Notes: The descriptions of the pancakes come from pancakes friends of mine all eat and my own favorites, and this chapter doesn't have much in the way of action- it's a chapter mostly of people talking, sharing, eating, sleeping, and thinking. Next chapter will rev things up a bit, but this chapter was giving everybody a chance to breathe and to be in the moment.

“Hello, Booker.”

He could have collapsed.

“I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead.”

Her smile disappeared and she looked down at her shoes, her hands moving from her pockets to cross in front of her chest. She always did that when she was uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry. After France, it took almost two days for me to heal enough to travel, and by then I’d been captured and when I finally got loose, I couldn’t find any of you. I looked for a while.”

She looked up, her large, dark sunglasses still hiding her face.

“I gave up for a few years-after the War was over, and just kept up doing what I’d been doing before I met you all, and a few times I almost caught up with the four of you. I’d usually miss you by just enough that the trail went cold before I ever got close enough to let you know I was there.”

“How did you find me this time?”

Shandiin shrugged her right shoulder.

“I actually come here once a year lately, the last twenty or so years, hoping I will catch you, Nicky, or Joe. I have thought about parking outside of any place proclaiming to be the best Baklava joint in the world, and wait for Andy to show up to have a taste- but it turns out there are A LOT of shops claiming they’ve got the best Baklava.”

Booker smiled, recalling the first time Andy shared some baklava with Shandiin. Growing up in Canada, in the 1840s-1860s, she had very little experience with Greek food until she joined their group. Baklava, shish kabobs, Joe’s own personal take on tabbouleh, and Nicky’s favorite dried fruit dessert had been among her favorite new things, as well as the white grapes Booker had introduced her to a couple years later.

“I thought it was Nile that brought you back.”

“That the new girl?”

Booker nodded as he stepped closer. Close enough to make out the light freckles on her cheeks and nose, and to catch the scent of her shampoo. So many things had changed since 1914, yet many appeared to have remained the same.

She met his gaze, holding it as the air seemed to stand still, the world fading away for a moment. Booker had nearly forgotten how intense her stare could be. Then he felt her warm, strong hand on his wrist.

“I’ve missed you. All of you.”

He nodded, his throat tightening as he thought about the prospect of explaining why he was alone. About his betrayal and banishment, of Andy’s losing her immortality, of Copley and everything.

“There’s a lot to catch you up on. To start, Quynh has returned and is waiting in my apartment for me to come back. Andy and the others will be here early in the morning.”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of Quynh.

“You found her? How? Jacques Cousteau on the payroll now?”

Booker shook his head, feeling even more guilty. He hadn’t thought that possible.

“She found me.”

Shandiin smiled brightly, her hand moving from Booker’s wrist to his shoulder.

“Book, this is a good thing! She’s back! She’s found her team, and just in time to meet the new girl. Why aren’t you celebrating?”

Her eyes searched his face, concern growing.

“What’s wrong, Sebastien? Sebastien?”

He could not meet her gaze. He could barely force out the words.

“I betrayed the team.”

“What? How is that even possible?”

He let out a long breath, waiting for the gentle hand on his shoulder to turn to a violent grip or a punch to the face. For Shandiin to drop her hand, back away, and look at him with rage, horror, and anger.

“There was a man, he wanted our blood, DNA, and all that, in order to figure out the key to our immortality. To unlock the ability to heal, to revive as we do. His man promised they could figure out how to turn off our immortality, if we wanted. I had thought they would just take samples from where they shot us, and we bled, or just take me when that didn’t work. That was the plan, then they could make us mortal again, and I could be done.”

That was as far as he could get before the guilt choked him again. Shandiin’s hand never moved.

“But it didn’t work out that way.”, she added, understanding somehow.

“The guy was too impressed. He wanted us all. Even when he realized Andy’s immortality ran out, he wanted her to understand why hers had gone away.”

“Andy’s mortal, just when Quynh’s come back?”

Booker nodded, unable to trust his voice.

“Nile wasn’t with us when we got caught and she came to our rescue. She saved all four of us, and helped Andy take down the guy behind it all, along with most of his minions. But the man who first found us, Copley, he works for Andy now- he hides our digital tracks.”

Shandiin stood, taking it in. Her hand had never left his shoulder and Booker found himself holding his breath, waiting for his betrayal to sink in.

“Let’s go. Quynh is probably wondering what happened to you.”

Booker turned towards the building he had brought Quynh to, Shandiin a half-step behind. Neither spoke, their minds too busy. It took only a few more minutes to arrive at his apartment.

Looking between the door and Shandiin, Booker knew this was going to be a shock. He wished Andy were here. He wished the whole team were here to share this. _Tomorrow_ , he reminded himself. Tomorrow.

~*~*~*~*~

Nile walked with Andy, Joe and Nicky behind them. In the months she had been with them, she had grown used to Nicky’s habit of greeting people as he passed while Joe smiled beside him, almost beaming. Andy was generally silent as they walked, unless she had to ask a question or give an instruction.

“How far in town do you think he’s staying?”

Nicky answered.

“There is a row of houses, they are old enough to be familiar to us. Very little has been done to them in the past century. Some wiring, a bit of work on the windows perhaps.”

“But where are they?”

Joe smiled fondly at Nile, while Nicky answered her question patiently.

“In the bad-side of the historical district, would be the short answer. It will take us a little while longer to walk there, but you’ll probably know when we get there.”

Nile let out a long sigh. She glanced over at Andy to see that Andy was barely paying the three of them any attention. Nile could only assume Andy was lost in thinking about reuniting with Quynh. What her old lover would be like now, how their reunion would go, how Quynh would react to learning of the changes in the team, the world, and Andy. She may even have been worrying about Booker.

This whole team was a family, of sorts. Nile had seen how each were handling Booker’s punishment. Nicky had pretended he didn’t realize Nile checked up on Booker while also never bringing up the forger. Joe acted like Booker never existed, unless Andy brought him up- then he would smile as if pained, reminiscing with her.

Andy, for the most part, seemed to stare a lot at the handful of photos she had asked Copley to print off for her. Several were of or featured Booker, the rest were Nicky and Joe, and a couple of Nile, as well as a shot of a painting believed to be of Andy and Quynh.

For the next hour, they wove in and around different streets, in the shadows of huge, ornate buildings. Nile was awe-struck by the beautiful village they were making their way through. Even the streets were beautiful, with stone inlaid with such attention to detail and decorated pots holding beautiful flowers and other greenery outside of many of the doors. It looked like something from a brochure at a travel agency.

They went over a small bridge with a deep stream flowing underneath, and several little alleyways lay before them. Nile was ready to pull out Google Maps for some pictures when Nicky lead them down a path almost to the farthest left they could go. It was a labyrinth and Nicky guided them expertly, even pointing out houses here and there to Nile, mentioning painters, politicians, thinkers, and musicians who had lived there, and one house where, “Gianni was never very famous for his art, but his grandmother’s cooking was more memorable than his artwork.” A fact Joe confirmed with a sage nod.

A few minutes later, they stepped out into a wide, almost entirely deserted courtyard. Nine streets exited from it, between houses. A few little metal tables and comfortable benches were strewn about, with one building to the far right being a little café on the ground floor. It appeared empty or out of business to Nile’s eyes.

“Which way?”, Andy asked.

Nicky looked for a minute.

“There used to only be seven outlets.”

Joe chuckled at Nicky’s confused expression while Andy looked ready to strangle someone. Maybe even one of the little stone statues on one of the balconies the beautiful buildings sported.

“Which way, Nicky?”, Andy almost growled.

Nicky appeared to be doing some calculations in his head, allowing Nile a moment or two she could use to admire the view. The place was beautiful. The whole village had been. She was amazed that some people got to live in this place every day, seeing these beautiful sights every time they looked out the window or went for a walk, to the point they probably got bored of it. If she had enjoyed this kind of view, she would never have learned to drive a car cause she would have been too busy walking everywhere.

“Nicky, pick a street.”

Nile held up her phone.

“I could text Booker and ask which direction to go?”

Nicky’s eyes hardened for a moment.

“I’ll figure it out, just give me a second.”

Joe stepped in, specifically getting between Andy and Nicky and using his gentle voice usually only broken out for spooked horses or scared children.

“Alright, deep breath. The sun just came up a couple hours ago, we aren’t late yet, and they know to expect us. We will be there in just a few minutes.”

Joe then turned to Andy, offering her an understanding look.

“We’ll get you to her in a few minutes, boss. It’s been a few years, things have been altered.”

Andy offered a swift nod, moving to stand beside Nile.

“Never been to Italy before?”

“No. I think I might have to come back.”

Andy smile over at her, then looked back to the building Nile was currently admiring.

“I’ve always enjoyed Italy. I like Greece better.”

Nile chuckled a little, despite the heaviness in the air among the four of them. It was nice, to be able to talk with them.

“Of course, you like Greece better, wasn’t it part of Scythia at one point?”

Her answer was a shrug of her good shoulder with a wry upturn at the left corner of her mouth.

“An old woman is allowed her nonsensical reasoning.”

Nile rolled her eyes with a smile.

“This way!”, Nicky brightly announced as he headed off between a blue-painted house and the little defunked café.

The closer they came, the more Nile could see Andy’s nerves getting to the warrior. Her hands kept moving as if she were flexing sore knuckles. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, shoved her hair back several times even though none of is had fallen into her face, adjusted her sunglasses, toyed with the pull on her backpack, and worried her bottom lip a few times.

Nicky lead them through the increasingly narrow path with Joe bringing up the rear, occasionally casting a look behind them. Nile wondered if that was habit or if there was still a lingering concern about Merrick’s empire still having feelers out there for immortals. When he caught her checking on him, Joe shot her a smile that clearly said, ‘Don’t worry about it’, as he walked.

Several buildings later, they arrived at a building nearer to the water. All tan, nothing about it really stood out from the houses around it. Nile would have thought the place was abandoned if not for the flower pot in an upstairs window and the laundry hanging out back.

“Yeah, not exactly a marvel of Italian architecture, is it?”, Joe tried to joke.

“More like an upscale dump. I mean, at least there’s no rotting garbage or sirens blaring.”, Nile commented.

Nicky shook his head at both of them before looking over to Andy. Her eyes had never left the first-story window the whole time they had been standing there. Nicky’s voice was quiet as he spoke to her.

“Go on, Boss. You should go first.”

She smiled, her eyes watery behind the sunglasses.

“I always go first.”

Nicky smiled, letting her go, his hand on the small of her back for one last bit of encouragement before they all followed her into the apartment. Nile and Joe walked up last, with Nile just two steps ahead. When they reached the door, Nicky waited for Joe and Nile moved to flank Andy’s other side, with Andy square in front of the aged wooden door.

For a long minute, none of them moved. They didn’t even breathe. Andy raised her fist twice, dropping it before she finished the action.

Andy looked over to Nile, who offered an encouraging nod, then to Joe and Nicky who each gave her a watery smile. Andy removed her sunglasses and shoved them in her pocket. She took another deep breath. Finally, Andy raised her fist and rap twice on the solid door.

Only a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a very disheveled, grungy looking Booker. Nile almost let out a choice swearword, but held her tongue for fear of spooking the man.

“She’s in here, but uh… there’s been a development.”

“Development?”, Andy asked.

“Shandiin’s here, too.”

Andy dove into the room, leaving the rest of them in her wake as she sought out their long-lost teammates. There, in the living room sat a tall, black-haired woman in stylish slacks, and a shorter black-haired woman, in a red blouse, both drinking tea. Andy and Quynh’s eyes met.

Nile watched as Quynh shakily sat her cup aside and rose, her legs seeming as steady as a newborn fowl. Andy moved forward, her legs barely doing any better before the two women flung themselves at each other, becoming a tangle of arms, hair, legs, tears, and words in languages Nile couldn’t even identify.

Beside her, Joe and Nicky were shamelessly crying, holding each other close, with big smiles almost splitting their faces. Nile looked over to see Booker, his pale green eyes watery and pained, but still managing a small smile. That left the other woman, whom Nile assumed was this ‘Shandiin’ person Booker had just mentioned. She had also set aside her tea and was watching, tears in her smokey-grey eyes as she witnessed the reunion.

Quynh and Andy turned to face Nile and the three men of the team, both smiling so brightly they could have outdone the sun in Iraq. Neither had taken their hand from the other, just shifted positions a bit. Nile was sure the two would probably be a bit touchy.

“Nic? Yusuf?”, Quynh asked.

Both men moved forward, pulling she and Andy into a solid group hug. Nile felt awkward and out of place at the reunion of old friends. Booker hadn’t known Quynh before she showed up on his doorstep a couple days ago. She wondered if he felt just as much a voyeur as she did.

When she glanced over at the Frenchman, she noticed that he was looking at the floor almost as if he felt he were intruding. Then, when Nile looked over to the other woman in the room, she found the tall woman looking at the scene with a soft smile that fell when her eyes came to rest on Booker. Something about the way this woman looked at Booker reminded Nile of the way her brother’s wife looked at him whenever he was upset or was in one of his funks he sometimes fell into around Father’s Day.

Andy looked up over Joe’s shoulder, smiling up at Nile and Booker. She held out an arm, gesturing for them. Nile arched her eyebrows in question.

“Get over here, both of you.”

Andy turned her head to look at the other tall, dark-haired woman.

“Come on, Shans.”

The other woman stood, coming over to somewhat awkwardly join the 7-person group hug. For just a minute, Nile felt as if she were being hugged at a family reunion or at Church, where it was awkward at first until you remembered that you were among those who cared for you. Then she relaxed.

~*~*~*~*~

Shandiin walked out onto the little balcony of Nicky and Joe’s little villa they had rented out for the trip. Apparently, they hadn’t trusted Booker to have rented out the whole building he was staying in and had planned to have a place big enough to allow Andy a room with Quynh, Nile to have her own room, Booker to have his own room, and for Nicky and Joe to share the second-largest bedroom.

Naturally, Quynh and Andy were getting the master suite at the far corner of the villa. Nicky and Joe clearly wanted to let the wives have their privacy as they got reacquainted with one another, and their own room had been further off from where Nile and Booker were each meant to stay. They had not planned for Shandiin to be there, and after dinner together that had been cooked by Nicky with a bit of help from Nile, Shandiin was ready for some fresh air.

She loved her team, and had missed them as achingly as her mortal family, yet she had grown accustomed to being alone for the past 106 years. And the revelry of having Quynh back, of having a new member, and of learning that Shandiin was alive and returned to them, had left Andy, Nicky, and Joe a bit too much for her at the moment, as well as having finally gotten to meet Quynh and meeting Nile.

It didn’t take long before Shandiin felt another presence on the balcony. She smiled as she sniffed the air a bit. Clean clothes and citrus. Nile. Turning, Shandiin greeted her.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”, Nile returned as she moved to lean against the same balcony wall.

“All the emotional upheaval a bit overwhelming?”, she asked Nile.

“A bit, yeah. I’m happy for Andy, and everyone, I just…”

“It’s a lot when you’re not even a year out from having to leave everything, and everyone, behind.”

“At least my dreams about Quynh’s death will stop, but how come I didn’t dream so much about you? Shouldn’t I have been seeing you like Quynh?”

Shandiin had wondered, herself, about how the dreams worked.

“I can only assume because of the huge and ongoing ordeal that Quynh was going through, hers were… more vivid and held onto your conscious mind more fiercely than your dreams of my death. It was almost 200 years ago and it really wasn’t all that dramatic, really.”

“You died, how is that not-dramatic?”

Shandiin shrugged.

“I didn’t see it coming. I had no chance for my life to flash before my eyes, I didn’t even get an opportunity to scream. I was walking away from the barn and then, I heard a loud bang that I vaguely remember thinking sounded like a gunshot, and then… I came to, gasping for breath, my chest on fire, blood all over my shirt, and my brother crying hysterically by my side. I remember hugging him and telling him I was alright, that everything was alright.”

“What happened?”

Shandiin looked out into the night. She had not spoken of her death since she joined the team in 1880.

“My family was rather…unconventional. My father was Navajo. My mama and her sister came with their parents from Ireland and then my mama and her sister joined a wagon train going West in about 1840 or somewhere in there. Years are getting a little fuzzy for me.”

She swallowed thickly as an image of her mama’s smile flashed and she swore for a second, she could hear her father’s laughter.

“The wagon train left she and her sister behind since they’d gotten sick and everyone figured they were going to die and it wasn’t worth risking being stuck in the winter storms, trying to take care of them. My father and his elder brother found them and brought them back to the village for the winter. By spring, my parents were madly in love and her little sister had a sweetheart of her own. Right after they had me, soldiers came and tried to force everyone off. My father refused to be told where he could live and how he would live. My mama wasn’t too fond of the idea either, she’d always had a mighty independent streak. They packed up me, my then 10yr old aunt, and my 17-year-old uncle, and moved to what would now be a southern town in Canada. We lived pretty happily there for years. I grew up, they had my baby brother about ten years after they had me, my aunt married a local boy from one of the tribes up there, my uncle married a French trapper’s daughter, and the whole bunch of us had a cattle ranch. That’s how I died. Cattle rustlers. I was about to catch them and didn’t realize, and one of the men shot me before they all ran off with most of our cattle. My brother heard the shot and came down out of the hay loft to see what happened, and I revived in front of him.”

Nile’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t believe this woman’s story. When she had died, the first time, she had enough time to realize that she was in trouble at least. A moment to pray she wouldn’t die. From what they had said, all of the team’s initial deaths had been ones they had some warning about.

Looking over the woman in front of her, Nile began to see the hints of Shandiin’s background. Her hair definitely looked like what Lt.Heart’s hair had looked like, and she had been Cherokee. Shandiin’s cheekbones were high and straight, her skin tanned and healthy looking, and her hands looked like someone who had worked. It made sense for someone who grew up on a cattle operation. But she also had slight freckles across her cheeks and nose, and her eyes were a peculiar shade of grey that Nile couldn’t quite put a name to.

“Then what happened?”

“My brother fainted.”, Shandiin said with a chuckle, though Nile could see the pain haunting the taller woman’s eyes.

“I carried him back to the house, and my mama screamed when she saw us. I was covered in blood and my brother was limp in my arms. My uncle dove off the porch roof where he had been repairing a window upstairs, and it was chaos until my brother finally roused. For a while, they didn’t speak of my coming back to life. My mama called it a miracle, my father and uncle deemed there was some reason I wasn’t allowed to die yet. But… I had other things happen. Injuries that happened in front of neighbors and healed too quickly, then finally I was with my brother and his sweetheart, plus her father. Her father saw when she stepped on a snake and I moved my hand to take the bite meant for her. Angelique saw me come back to life, as did her father. I knew I couldn’t stay with my family after that. People thought all of us were like me, and I was painting a target on their backs, so we left town. I went one way, my family went the other.”

“Did you ever see any of them again?”

Shandiin nodded. Her face reminded Nile of when Booker spoke of his sons. Lost and pained. She figured, someday, that would be her.

“Twenty years later, I ran into my aunt by accident. She and her husband had their own ranch in present-day Wyoming. She’d had several children, her husband had died, and she had remarried. I asked how everyone was and she told me that my brother had gone out west, had his own life with a wife, two children, and worked at a bank. My parents and uncle were running a school for all the kids no one else would let in their school. In today’s speak, it would be the children of freed slaves, Native American children, the children of Chinese, Italian, Greek, and other immigrants, as well as some of the children of Confederate widows who were now living hand to mouth rather than in their plantation or manor house.”

“Sounds like they all had good lives.”

“They did, and that has been more comfort to me than I can say. What about you? Who were you made to leave behind?”

“My mother, brother, sister-in-law, a niece I’ll never get to meet. Some friends and cousins, too.”

Shandiin nodded.

“You’ll never stop missing them, from what I’ve seen. Nicky doesn’t mention it, but he still misses his little sister. Joe says a prayer for her soul every day.”

“I’ve noticed his prayers. I was surprised.”

“Why?”

“Because of how Andy reacted to my praying.”

Shandiin shook her head.

“Well, when one has been worshiped as a goddess, I think it gives one a dim view on religion. Not to mention, thousands of years of watching people kill each other over which god or gods they worshiped and how they went about doing that worship, could make anyone skeptical of faith.”

“Are you religious?”

The tall woman offered a warm smile.

“Somewhat. I was raised by a Catholic mama and a Navajo father, in Canada’s cornucopia of religions, traditions, and languages. I’ve always been an odd blend of Spiritual and Religious.”

Shandiin reached, pointing to the little gold cross at Nile’s throat.

“Don’t lose that faith. It can be a rare constant in lives like ours.”

“I’ll try.”

The older woman nodded, then cast her eyes back out into the night. She took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as a thoughtful smile appeared on her lips.

“Where have you been for a hundred years?”

She was genuinely curious about the gap in history for this younger member of the team. Nile had thought Booker was ‘the baby’ of the team before Nile had arrived. Now she had gotten to meet the long-missed Quynh and the fairly young immortal, Shandiin.

“I traveled. I came to in a prisoner’s camp, with German officers taking bets about how long till I’d die from the conditions. Granted, those officers weren’t in a hugely better position than I was, so I hadn’t been worried. I was recovering from being dead, so I figured my immortality was holding out. By the time I got free, along with a few others, I had no idea where we were or where Andy, Booker, Nicky, and Joe had gone. After that, I was all over Europe. I did go to Ireland for a while, to see all the things my mama spoke of. Felt like I was a little closer to her, for a bit. I lived in Scotland for a few years, then I went to Greece for a while figuring Andy would come back and maybe I could spot her. Then… well there was some trouble and I ended up in New Zealand for a little while. Most recently, I’ve been in Washington state. I learned some makeup tricks that make me a little older looking or a little younger looking so I did younger-makeup for a while, then less makeup, and then older-makeup so I could make a place last a little longer.”

“Guess I’ll have to do the same, someday.”

Shandiin looked over at her, an understanding look in her eyes.

“After they got Quynh back, and I came back, and with the prospect of losing Andy… I doubt the team will let you out of their sight in the near few centuries, so I doubt you’ll be away from them long enough to get lonely enough to risk sticking somewhere long enough to need that trick.”

“What about Booker? You think they’ll still make him do out the rest of his punishment?”

The older immortal looked back towards the house for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice seemed to better match her actual age, with a weight to it that gave Nile goosebumps.

“They might. Andy and Quynh will disregard it after a while, and Andy will work on Joe and Nicky. She wasn’t a parent, but… her own mother betrayed her and Lykon was like a younger brother to her, then she lost Quynh. She better understands the weight of losses you weren’t prepared for, than Joe or Nicky do.”

Nile turned, looking back out into the night. All the lights from the village glittered in the darkness, with only a sliver of the moon showing and clouds blotting out most of the stars. From the height of the villa’s balcony, Nile could see the shimmering surface of the ocean in the distance as the waves rolling in, over and over. It was mesmerizing.

Neither she or Shandiin spoke for a while. Nile was not even sure for how long they had been standing out there when their peace was broken by Joe calling Nile’s name loudly. Shandiin chuckled.

“I think he wants to show you something. He probably made one of his famous desserts and needs you to taste it to prove he’s a better baker than Nicky.”

“After that dinner, I’m not sure there’s anyone in Italy who is better in the kitchen than Nicky.”

The other woman laughed.

“It’s a friendly competition between them, much like the bets over Andy’s baklava knowledge.”

“Wait, were they doing that back in 1910?”

Shandiin nodded.

“I’d never had Baklava before, but after one taste, I could completely understand why Andy was so in love with the treat.”

“NILE!”, came Joe’s voice.

“You’d better go before he panics and sends a search party.”

“Thanks for sharing your story.”

Shandiin waved her off and Nile went back into the house before Shandiin turned back to the view. It was a peaceful night. The stars were mostly obscured and the moon barely making a showing at all, but there was enough ambient glow from the village below to illuminate the area. The whole village was bathed in the warmth of the lights coming out of windows and street lamps.

She couldn’t recall the last time she had been in Italy long enough to enjoy this kind of evening. Good food, shared with familiar faces over a large table, followed by a little alone time on a balcony with an unbeatable view. It was nice. She breathed deep and slow, taking the chance to just Be.

After a while, Shandiin tilted her head into the wind, trying to pick out the sound. When she placed it, she smiled. Someone in the distance played a violin, beautifully, into the night air. She could tell when someone joined them, boosting the sound enough for her to pick out the full melody. The tune was foreign to her but none the less beautiful for it.

“You always did claim music sounded better from a distance.”

Shandiin smiled before twisting to look over her shoulder at Booker. He looked a bit less like he had been scraped out from under a bridge, after a meal and an evening with the team. She was glad of it.

“Blame it on my Irish half. We’re all a bunch of drunken, mad, romantics.”

Booker smiled as he moved slowly over to stand beside her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched. She sensed he was giving her the opportunity to tell him to get lost or get away from her. She had no intentions of doing either.

“Only you never drank, so you cannot be drunk.”

“True. Although, one can be drunk on things other than alcohol. Drunk on good times, drunk on love, drunk on pizza.”

“On pizza?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

They both smiled, and Booker moved, leaning forward over the railing of the balcony like Shandiin. Shandiin had so many questions. Questions she had mostly held in, waiting a while to get back into the swing of things with her team, allowing time to adjust to Quynh and Nile’s presence, and for Booker’s head to clear of the grief, alcohol, loneliness, and guilt that had made him a hollowed out stranger who answered to the same name as her friend did 106 years ago.

“I can hear the wheels spinning, Shans. Ask your questions.”

“You a mind-reader now, Book?”

He pulled a wry expression before shaking his head.

“Why did you believe they’d only take you, that everyone else they just wanted a blood sample from and they’d let them go? I mean, how can you be so old as you are, and really have thought that?”

“I don’t know. Blinded by my desire to end this immortality, maybe? The lure of a light at the end of a too-long tunnel. Copley was who I talked to and he believed that was all that would be needed, so perhaps I believed him more than I should have.”

“Suppose I can understand that.”

“Can you? You always seemed so alright with your immortality.”

Shandiin shrugged.

“My father’s answer to ‘Why am I like this’ had been that the Spirits willed it, that there was something I was supposed to accomplish that required me to live when I should have died. My mama thought it was a miracle, and she didn’t disagree that there was a reason I was revived. Guess that always stuck with me, even after all these years.”

“I had forgotten you told me that.”

“Booker, you outlived a wife and three sons. None of us know that grief.”

“Andy said she doesn’t remember her mother’s face anymore. Sometimes I’m not sure which would be worse- for so much time to pass that I forget my sons’ faces, or for me to reach Andy’s age and still be able to see them with the same sharpness of clarity I can picture now. My eldest, he had his mother’s eyes and the slope of her nose. Our middle boy had her blonde curls and her smile, bright as a summer day. Our youngest, he had her ears and her temper. I worry I will forget that, other times I almost can’t wait to forget.”

Shandiin moved, reaching out to lay a hand over Booker’s wrist. The warmth of her soaked into him in a way no sunshine, warm blanket, or campfire had been able to do in years. Looking up into those stormy grey eyes, he was finally accepting she was really here. That this past week had truly happened and he was not dreaming.

Suddenly, Shandiin was pulling him close, wrapping her arms around him. Booker hadn’t meant to and yet he still found himself crying into her shoulder. He felt one warm hand stroking up and down his back, sometimes drifting up to the nape of his neck to cup the back of his head, her long finger running through his hair.

“I’m sorry. I would never have risked it if I had known, if I had realized what I was risking.”, he sobbed into her shoulder.

“I know.”

Booker had no idea how long they stood there, embracing each other as Booker let out all the anger, fear, guilt, and self-loathing, finding himself shaking in the aftermath of the onslaught of emotion. The upheaval had been more than he had allowed himself in decades. Not since Shandiin had disappeared over a hundred years ago.

It felt good to be able to let his guard down. After he had made the arrangements with Copley to get blood samples from everyone, evidence that they really did revive from everything, and then to turn himself over once he’d had a chance to go on a final mission with his team to say goodbye in a way, Booker had needed to hide all of that from his team. As well as still dealing with his nightmares over and over of Quynh’s death, before Nile’s death invaded all their dreams.

“Sorry to unload on you like that. Hell of a homecoming.”, he said as he backed off.

Shandiin kept his hand in hers, her eyes sad as they looked back at him.

“Stop beating yourself up, Booker. It does you no good and only adds to the weight of your soul.”

“Still convinced I have one, huh?”

“Someone without a soul couldn’t experience your pain.”

Booker did not get a chance to respond, as Nile came out with two plates of baklava and ice cream. She handed them each a plate and a spoon with an inquisitive look.

“Nicky wants everyone to try this ice cream. Says it’s the best he’s had in my lifetime.”

Shandiin snorted as she plunged her spoon into the ice cream.

“He says that about every new good thing he tries.”, Booker teased.

Nile offered a slight smile as she pushed the second plate at Booker. He took it with a nod, a bit less forceful in his enthusiasm for the treat than Shandiin was. Shandiin met his amused look, with her spoon still in her mouth.

“What?”

“I never knew you liked ice cream so much?”

She cleaned off her spoon and swallowed before answering.

“Ice cream is a gift from the Heavens. I cannot be convinced otherwise.”

Nile chuckled.

“You’re really serious about your ice cream.”

“Now if this were dark chocolate ice cream, I wouldn’t be able to tear myself away from the spoon long enough to have this conversation.”

“Should I tell Nicky?”, Nile teased.

“Feel free to do so, but just know you’re the one who’ll have to haul my fat butt around when I gain 50 pounds.”

The three of them chuckled into the night, enjoying the moment together. Unbeknownst to them, Andy watched from the upstairs window of the second bathroom. It was good to see the ‘kids’ of the team together, getting along. There was a chance that, someday, it would be just the three of them without Quynh, Joe, and Nicky around, and Andy liked knowing the three would be alright.

She felt a slim, strong hand on her him, then a chin resting on her shoulder. She knew Quynh had always liked looking over Andy’s shoulder while snuggling her from behind.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.”

“They do.”

“Think they will fix Booker?”

“More than likely. I think he’s adopted Nile as his new little sister, and Shandiin had an aunt and a brother she grew up with, so it comes naturally to her.”

“Yes. I think they will become their own little pack.”

“We are a pair, Nicky and Yusuf are a pair, those three will be a pack, and we are all a team. We are your family, Andromache.”

Turning in her wife’s arms, Andy smiled.

“I love you.”

“And I you, Andromache. Come, let us to bed.”

Hands clasped, they walked out and down the hall to their room. The master bedroom that Nicky and Joe had been very adamant was to be for Andy and Quynh. Joe had teased lightly about not wanting to hear them. Nicky had offered that they would be the least likely to be disturbed by the noise of everyone at breakfast if the pair wanted to sleep in together.

Andy was aware they had a lot of catching up to do, and sadly a limited time to do that. They would not have their Forever Together that they had once thought to have. For tonight, Andy did not want to think about any of it. She simply wanted to hold Quynh in her arms all night and all morning, to feel Quynh’s soft skin against her own, to hear the soft breath she still remembered perfectly, and know that for tonight- they were just Andy and Quynh. The rest of the world would just have to stay on the other side of the door tonight.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Booker watched as the team, minus Andy and Quynh who had already tucked in for the night, all sat gathered at a common table with a second serving of dessert. Everyone was chuckling, joking, telling stories, and enjoying each other’s company. It ate at him that he had nearly brought an end to this with his desire to be mortal again.

He felt an overly warm hand on his thigh, the table hiding it from the view of the others. Booker glanced over to see Shandiin still facing forward, smiling with her mouth full, as Joe told another one of his ‘Nicky and I did something goofy in that country’ stories. Shandiin had always loved Joe’s stories, taking in even repeats as if they were treasure. Booker supposed they really were treasure.

Shandiin squeezed his thigh just enough to bring him back into the moment, then let her hand drop slowly enough not to draw attention. Nile began to tell a story about a fantastic cave she and two other marines got to spend a night in when they had been on a shore leave of sorts and found cave art.

For a while, it continued this way until everyone was drowsy with full stomachs and lighter spirits. Nile headed off to bed first, waving goodnight over her shoulder as she headed down to her room. Nicky wasn’t far behind her, after having spent a good deal of the evening cooking and serving most of the meal. Joe began cleaning up from dinner, but Shandiin waved him off.

“Go to bed, you made dessert, helped serve, and cleaned half the kitchen. I got this.”

“You’re sure?”

“Joe, bed, now.”

“Bossy, bossy.”, he teased before downing the last of his drink.

Joe was halfway to the door when he stopped, then turned to face Booker and Shandiin as they picked up dishes and drinkware.

“There’s only one bedroom after Nile, Andy, and Nicky claimed theirs. I’m sorry, Shans, we didn’t know you were.”, she interrupted him with her left hand up to stop him.

“Joe, it’s alright. You have a spacious, and I must say quite fluffy, sofa in the living room that has been calling my name all evening. Once I clean up in here, I’ll change and flop out there.”

“You could take my room.”, Booker offered.

Joe looked between the two, an evil thought coming to mind. He let out a sigh, making a show of giving in to his tiredness. He yawned, stretching his arms enough to pull up his shirt to show a sliver of skin and make his back crack.

“Well, you kids have fun fighting over the accommodations. I need sleep.”

He walked out, leaving the two alone. Shandiin chuckled at him as she stacked a couple more plates.

“Shans, take the room. It’s fine.”

She blew a raspberry at him.

“Excuse you, did you forget your words?”

“Stop being a martyr and get the butter dish will you?”

Booker added the butter dish to his stack of plates, following her over to the kitchen. With all the hand-painted plates, Shandiin had no intention of trusting the little dish washer with their plates. She would only add the drinking glasses and anything that hadn’t been decorated by someone’s fine painting skills.

Booker leaned a hip against the counter and watched as she sorted out what would get hand-washed and what would go into the washer, with a few items set aside to let soak overnight. Joe and Nicky had not completely cleaned the kitchen after they cooked and baked for dinner and dessert.

“Want some help?”

“Yeah, load the dish washer, please? I’m gonna put the leftover baklava in a dish and cover it.”

When she came back a minute later and began tending to the baklava, Booker watched her. She had kicked out of her short-heeled boots, her hat and sunglasses gone, moving about in a gauzy blue shirt and dark gray slacks, her long raven locks falling down her back, she looked like something from an old movie.

“Why are you staring, Book?”

“Sorry.”

She smiled up at him.

“I’m gonna start charging you for using that word.”

“Sorry.”

She flicked water at him from where she was rinsing dishes off, both of them chuckling a little.

Booker continued with sharing the water to rinse glasses before putting them in the washer, while Shandiin rinsed the worst off the plates to ready them for washing.

“You really should take the bedroom.”

“No, Booker, I’m good on the sofa. Besides, I have huge windows in the living room so if I can’t sleep, I’ll have an amazing view to enjoy.”

“Still have trouble sleeping?”

She shrugged. The whole time she had traveled with them, she always seemed to be restless at night. Booker had asked about it and she told him that she used to take turns with her uncle, sitting up to watch the cattle and the ranch.

“I’m a nightowl. It’s in my blood.”

“We’ve missed you, Shans. It’s been… incredible, to get you back.”

She looked up at him, her cheeks full and warming as she smiled. This close, under the kitchen lights, he could see every fleck of silver and pewter in her stormy grey eyes. The urge to kiss her did not surprise him as much as it should have. She always brought out such from him a hundred years ago.

“It’s been fantastic to be back. I almost forgot how much I missed you all. Ached for you, really.”

He nodded, figuring her solitude was what he had to look forward to. However, for tonight, he wanted to push those thoughts away. He would face reality in the morning. Tonight, he could pretend.

“Book?”

He looked up from where his eyes had drifted off along with his train of thought.

“Sorry.”

“Ten bucks.”

“What?”

“I said I was gonna start charging you for using that word. Ten bucks.”, she said, holding out her soapy hand.

Booker chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a near-equivalent of ten American dollars, handing over the Italian currency. Shandiin grinned.

“Seriously, you are far too easy to get money out of. I’m changing your name from Booker to ATM.”

He chuckled as he went back to the dishes. They continued in companionable silence as they worked to clean up the kitchen, table, and empty containers from cooking, baking, and eating. With both of them at it, the task did not take them long. Then they were back to the one bed, two people issue.

“Please, take the bed? I don’t like you sleeping out here alone with that lock being so poor.”

“We’re immortals, I’ve been on my own a long time, and I’m hardly defenseless.”

“Humour an old man who worries too much.”

“Fine, I’ll take the left-half.”, she said with a shrug as she turned to head down the hall.

Booker was still processing. Left-half. As in she expected him to share, and she had said it as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

“Book?”

He looked up, realizing she was halfway down the hall.

“You coming, or you need an assist?”

“Oh, sorry. Lost in my head.”

“Ten bucks.”

He rolled his eyes, lightly jogging up to meet her. She arched a dark eyebrow at him.

“You owe me ten bucks tomorrow.”

He grinned.

“I’m good for it.”

“Oh, I saw your watch, I know you are.”

Booker chuckled, then nearly jumped when he felt Shandiin reach out to catch his pinky and ring fingers with her own.

“It’ll get better, Sebastien. They won’t send you off for a full century. Not if Nile or I have anything to say about it. That girl is not a fan of separating the family.”

“Thank you.”

“But you if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will personally disembowel you and hang you from a rampart.”

“Duly noted.”

“Good. Everyone is entitled to being tricked once. You’re too smart to be tricked twice.”

“Nile told me she thought I was the brains of this operation.”

Shandiin nodded, clearly holding back a chuckle.

“I mean, Andy is the brains, guts, and backbone, but after her, you’re the brains. Nicky is our conscience. Joe is our sense of humor and honor. Nile seems to be shaping up to be the backup guts and the backup conscience.”

“What about you and Quynh?”

She shrugged.

“Not sure yet. I think she’ll be the eyes, she sees stuff differently and she was the sniper before Nicky ever picked up his first bow and arrow. I guess I’m the nose, cause I always sniff stuff out and I can tell when the weather is about to shift on us.”

“Nice.”

“I’ve no issue being the nose.”

“No comment.”

“Smart man.”

They arrived at the room and she shoved the door open, tugging Booker in by his pinky and ring finger. She had anticipated him trying to back out once they reached the room. He had forgotten how good she was at reading people.

“My bag is already here?”, she noted with a clear question in her tone.

“And so is mine.”, Booker realized.

Turning to look at each other, they answered the unasked question in unison.

“Joe.”

Shandiin sighed.

“Well, I call dibs on the bathroom to change.”

Booker gestured for her to go ahead. She pointed a finger at him as her other hand went for her bag.

“If you sneak out to sleep on the sofa, I will roll you onto a carpet and drag you to sleep at the foot of Nicky and Joe’s bed.”

“Why their room?”

“Because you and Joe would deserve it, and Nicky can just put up with it.”

With that, she was gone into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Booker shook his head. It took him a minute to get out of his shoes, socks, and shirt, trying to decide if he ought to leave his jeans and Tshirt on or actually change into the cotton drawstring pants that constituted his pajamas. He was sharing, so he figured more clothing was appropriate, however he disliked sleeping in his jeans. He figured a compromise was to keep the Tshirt and change the pants.

When Shandiin stepped out a moment later, Booker was rather surprised. On the occasion they weren’t camped out someplace, Andy opted for silky or satin PJs, the amount of fabric being dictated by the weather. Nicky and Joe also went for slightly nicer, more upscale sleepwear, and Nile seemed to be a cotton sleepshirt with a funky cartoon on it- kind of girl.

Shandiin was in a pair of black shorts that showed off miles of long, well-muscled leg, and a light sweatshirt in a green so bright he was sure they could see it from space. Her hair was in a loose braid over one shoulder, her light touch of makeup gone, all her rings removed, and her feet bare. She could have passed for a college student walking around her dorm.

“What?”

“Sorry, I just… I think my retinas melted from looking at your shirt.”

She narrowed her eyes at him in mock-anger, pointing a finger as she spoke.

“I like bright green, bub. Get used to it.”, she smiled as she added, “Bathroom’s free.”

“Yeah, just be a sec. Gotta brush my teeth after that ice cream.”

She nodded.

“Yeah, hate to get a cavity.”

“More like morning breath on steroids.”

He caught her wrinkling her nose as he passed. Two minutes later, brushed and cleaned off a bit, he returned to find her already in the bed with the lights off and the covers pulled up to her hips. Booker started to move for the door when he heard a small growl.

“Sebastien le Livre, do not make me get out of my comfy spot to smack you.”

“That doesn’t exactly make me want to come closer.”, he teased.

She turned her head to look up at him.

“I’m too tired to beat you up, just get in bed. Besides, you’ll never get any sleep on that comfy, fluffy sofa. We both know you do better on firmer surfaces.”

He decided he didn’t want to argue. It was not as if this would be the first time he had shared a bed with a woman since the 1800s. Aside from sleeping in a huddle with Andy, Joe, and Nicky though, it would be the first time he had shared a bed with a woman, without there being sex on the agenda and copious amounts of alcohol in his bloodstream.

Booker carefully arranged himself in the bed so he wasn’t touching Shandiin or risking touching her in his sleep. He stared at the ceiling and waited for her breathing to even out so he would know she was asleep. Not that he intended to sneak out, however he wanted a chance to look at her without her commenting or realizing. He fully expected to be booted in the morning to finish out his sentence and he knew that would mean it would be another hundred years before he got to see her again.

She was back. She had been out there all this time, alone and making some efforts to find them over the years. They had been operating under the assumption she had died, between the explosion and the gas being used in those trenches, and when they could not find any trace of her… they had given up. Those weapons were so new, so catastrophic, they had no way of knowing how well their immortality would stand up to them.

Booker was happiest for Andy, out of the whole lot of them. She had Nile to train to someday take the reins of the team. Quynh was back, ready to spend whatever time Andy had, at Andy’s side. Shandiin had returned, giving Nile someone who was also newer to immortality, to help her through the first few years of it and to also help shield Andy in a fight. Andy had a full team, even without Booker. She would be safe and cared for, and the team would endure.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Nile woke with only a small start. Her nightmares, now that she had met all of the team, seemed to have stopped. Even her nightmares about the first time she killed someone, were beginning to subside a bit. Joe and Booker had helped, each in their own way.

As she rose from the twin bed that had been one of the softest things she had slept on since she enlisted, and threw on some real clothes, before heading out to the kitchen. She had not-yet gotten to the point where she comfortably ran around in her sleep clothes, around her new team.

As she had expected, Nicky and Joe were already up. Nicky was making pancakes and Joe was mixing up some batter for the next stack. The fluidity of motion between the two of them was like a dance. Nile enjoyed watching them sometimes, as they went about perfectly normal tasks, and even if she got a chance when they were on a mission.

“Blueberry or Cinnamon?”

“What?”

Joe turned back, repeating his question.

“The pancakes, blueberry or cinnamon? I got fresh berries and all the fixings to do up cinnamon and blueberry pancakes. Blueberry syrup, cinnamon glaze, brown sugar to dust with, whip cream, walnuts, slivered almonds, and dark chocolate to drizzle over the flapjacks.”

“You guys really do go all out, don’t you?”

Nicky smiled.

“A meal shared is a gift. Why eat microwaved macaroni when you can have homemade pancakes?”

She smiled at his philosophical question and went over to check out the offerings.

“I think I’ll take blueberry.”

Joe grinned.

“Good choice.”

“It’s his favorite.”, Nicky added without looking away from the pancakes he was flipping.

Nile nodded, then moved to help as much as she could, including unloading the drinkware from the dishwasher, now that it was all clean. She noticed Joe and Nicky sharing a small chuckle as she put away the glasses.

“Did I miss something?”, she asked the pair.

Joe snorted and Nicky shook his head with amused look.

“Joe is waiting to see how the sleeping arrangements went over last night.”

“Come again?”

“Shandiin and Booker.”

“Whoa, I was more tired than I thought, I didn’t even think about it. There weren’t enough rooms.”

Nicky nodded and Joe looked ready to split his head with the grin he wore.

“Booker argued he could take the sofa, Shandiin had already tried to claim it. I left them to it and put both their bags on the bed in the last room. I figured if it didn’t occur to them to share, I’d nudge them.”

Nicky shot his husband a slightly disapproving look. Nile was trying to figure out when Joe had gone from wanting to throw Booker into a volcano, to trying to get the man to hook up with their long-lost teammate. Before she had a chance to inquire any further, Quynh walked into the room, her flowing white silk nightgown catching the breeze she left in her wake.

“I smell something delicious.”

“Pancakes. You want one of each flavor to try?”, Nicky asked.

“That sounds perfect. Which flavor does Andy prefer, I can take them back for her.”

“She not feeling up to breakfast?”, Joe asked, concerned.

Quynh shrugged.

“I think we all wore her out yesterday and last night with all the good food and good company, and… well, it was an emotional day.”

Everyone seemed to nod almost in unison. Soon, Nile had a tall stack of blueberry pancakes in front of her with dark chocolate chips and some blueberry syrup. Nicky plated one of each flavor for Quynh and gave her dabs of each thing she might flavor them with, before making a stack of cinnamon for Andy, with whip cream, a dusting of brown sugar, and just a little honey drizzled on top. Nile thought it looked like baklava-flavored pancakes as Quynh headed out with the plates on a tray.

As Quynh passed the last bedroom before the turn down a hall to she and Andromache’s room, she thought she heard Booker’s light snore and it occurred to her that they had 7 members and not enough beds to go around, even taking into accounts four of them were coupled. She wondered if Shandiin had gotten the infamously solitary Booker to share, rather than sleeping on the floor or a sofa.

Inside, Booker was just starting to wake as the sun lit the room brightly through the gauzy white curtains and the smell of fresh pancakes invaded his nose. He was about to get up when he realized there was a weight against his shoulder and side. Turning his head slowly, he opened sleep-slowed eyes to find Shandiin. Her nose was tucked against his chest with her head resting on his shoulder, her one arm bent over his side, his own arm wrapped around her back.

He thought, trying to recall when she had moved and when he had reached out. She must have slid or rolled over, and he must have moved his arm to accommodate her. For whatever reason, he could not remember any of it. Though, he noted, he felt warm, well-rested, and his head clearer than it had been in an age.

Booker felt Shandiin stir, a deeper breath expanding her lungs as she blinked. He could feel her eyelids even through the thin material of his battered gray shirt. Her arm moved to stretch out, wrapping around his stomach.

“Morning.”, she greeted as he felt her shift to stretch her legs under the blankets.

“Good morning.”

It was comical to watch as she sniffed once, twice, then her head rose and she looked around almost as if she were expecting a prank or trick. The suspicious grin on her otherwise sleep-tousled face, was…cute.

“I smell pancakes.”

“Nicky makes them when he’s in a particularly good mood of a morning.”

“Blueberry and cinnamon.”

“Blueberry are Nicky’s favorite, cinnamon are Andy’s.”

“What about you and Joe?”

“Joe just likes pancakes, he doesn’t actually have a particular favorite. Not like he is with pie. I like plain ones with banana and walnuts, then throw some whip cream on them. What kind do you like?”, he asked as he realized he had never seen her eat one, due to what their diets had been like 100 years ago.

“I found a place that makes whole wheat ones with oats, brown sugar, and cinnamon, then I drown them in apple butter.”

“What, no maple syrup?”

She swatted his chest as she got up.

“No Canada jokes, or I’m gonna start up my bad French and Blond jokes.”

Booker smiled, well-recalling her terrible French jokes she used to tell when she thought he was in a dark mood. They got up, neither bothering to change before they headed down the hall to the kitchen. Booker chuckled as Shandiin basically walked in nose-first, sniffing appreciatively at the air.

“Nicky, I’m pretty sure you’re a cooking god.”

“I agree.”, Joe added before giving his husband a kiss on the cheek and walking behind him with a plate of plain pancakes for Booker.

“What kind do you like, Shans? I’ve got batter for more cinnamon, Joe can make up some more blueberry, we’ve got a little left of the plain, and we might have what we need for dark chocolate chip, if you don’t mind waiting a bit?”

“Uh, I’ll take a short stack of cinnamon.”, she said as she eyed that large stacks on Nile and Booker’s plates.

“Short stack of cinnamon coming right up.”, he teased as Nicky poured the batter into his two skillets he had going.

“Feel like I’m at the homey-Ritz.”

Nile chuckled.

“Quynh already came out for she and Andy’s, so I’m guessing we won’t see them for a while. Sounds like Andy might have still been sleeping.”

Shandiin handed Booker a banana and the whip cream as she began putting together a glass of orange juice for herself and checking on where Joe’s tea was steeping.

“Joe, I can’t ID your tea, but it smells amazing.”

“It’s a new blend I’m trying. Never had it before, but it smelled so delicious, I could not resist picking up a package.”

“I can understand why.”, Shandiin added as she brought the toppings over to the table.

A few minutes later, Nicky and Joe each had a stack of blueberry pancakes with Joe’s also having a large helping of syrup on it while Nicky had a thin drizzle over his own. Shandiin was enjoying her cinnamon pancakes without anything on them, since apple butter was a bit scarce in the area, Booker had his banana nut concoction, and Nile was working on her second stack of blueberry pancakes.

Nile looked around at the table and realized something. She felt… at home. Everyone here accepted her for who and what she was, even Shandiin seemed to after only a day, be well on her way to being Nile’s friend. Booker had been fine answering her messages at weird hours, to help talk her through her nightmares about Quynh and her first kill, as well as leaving her family behind. Joe was always quick to read her mood and know when she just needed a sparring partner or a trip into town. Nicky kept track of her favorite foods and snacks to make sure the pantry was stocked for her, and sometimes stayed up watching stupid cartoons with her when he could tell she was lonely for home. Andy, well she was a weird combination of big sister, matriarch, boss, and wise old mentor.

This was her family now. They were still a bit new to her, and she had a lot to learn about them just like they had a lot to discover about her, yet they were hers and she was theirs now. She loved them and she looked forward to sharing years, battles, and meals for years to come with them.


	3. Mutually Assured Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nile gets to spar with some of the team, which gets her wondering what exactly happened in 1914. Andy is forced to explain while Shandiin tries to shove Booker into a better place, mentally and emotionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I kept my historical stuff to a minimum in the flashback. Also, I based Shandiin's weapon on German War Hammers and a few other weapons that date through the 14th-17th centuries, as well as her old knowledge of how to duel with a shillelagh.I figured she would go in for a weapon that allowed her to be equal to a man on a horse as well as facing off against a pair of armed, lightly armored men. For the present-day mission, I admit I threw a dart at the map for a country to have the problem in and it landed in France, so I threw it again (I needed them to travel more than a couple hours) and it landed in North Korea.
> 
> Also, if you want to find out what the word Shandiin uses to describe Booker means at the same time Booker finds out- do NOT read the note at the bottom. If you want to know NOW, then it will be in the post-chapter note at the end.
> 
> Triggers: Cave-ins, dying from gas, seizures, being blown up (think what happened to Booker when Nicky & Joe were taken- but worse, rescuing hostages from terrible circumstances, survivor's guilt.

Nile looked around, coming back from her trip into town with Joe, that the villa seemed a bit quiet. She had expected to find Nicky and Booker loudly shouting at the TV and betting on a soccer game, for Andy and possibly Quynh to be on the balcony reading or such, and for Shandiin to be floating around somewhere. Instead, Nicky was alone on the large balcony. He looked a bit angry.

“Nicky?”

He turned, looking at she and Joe. She noticed a rapid flash of relief at seeing the two of them before he went back to looking angry.

“Booker’s gone.”

“What?”, Joe asked.

“I went back to his room to ask if he would mind helping me put lunch together and… he was gone. Shandiin went looking for him and Andy’s phone rang right after Shans left. It was Copley. He’s got a job for us, if we want it.”

Joe ushered them both into the villa, Nicky reaching to take a couple grocery bags off of each of them.

“Where are Andy and Quynh?”, Nile inquired.

She liked to know where all her team was, at any given time.

“They went down to a couple places she thought Booker might go, Shandiin is checking some of the less-obvious places he might disappear to. He left a note on the counter, saying he was glad Quynh and Shandiin were back, and for us all to stay safe.”

“Damnit!”, Joe growled.

Nile let out a long breath.

“He probably thought he was saving you all the trouble of telling him to get lost, and finish out his century-long shunning.”

Joe and Nicky exchanged a look. Nile wondered if they were regretting the lengthy duration of the sentence passed. They had argued for longer, at the time the punishment was being decided. Andy had been the one to simply state, ‘One hundred years’, before looking up at Joe and Nicky with a sad look.

Nile still wondered if Andy had thought Joe or Nicky might offer to lower it, and Nile had wanted to let him off with an apology. After their conversation the night she intentionally put her hand in the fire, she found it hard to shun the man and force him to be any more alone than he already seemed to be.

Joe put a hand on her shoulder, offering Nile a soft smile. Nicky was busying his hands, putting groceries in place at their rented Villa and muttering to himself in Italian.

“They’ll be back. Then we’ll go take care of this job, and we can worry about what to do with Booker after that.”

Nile nodded.

~^~^~^~^~

Booker sat in the bar, downing the latest drink. He had told the barkeep it was ‘for the table’, but it was all for himself. This was the fourth place he had been to since he left this morning, not wishing to wait for the awkward, painful conversation where his team would tell him he needed to leave. He understood. He still had 99 years, 5 months, and 23 days left to serve out.

The waitress passed, asking if the rest of his party had arrived. It stung. Booker just shook his head and returned to his thoughts. Last year, during Andy’s sabbatical, he had returned to what had been his hometown in his mortal life. The graveyard where his wife and their youngest son had been buried, had been turned into a Church years ago. He had not been too upset, knowing his wife would have teased that at least she got to hear her favorite music every Sunday.

Sophie would likely have been amused at having more of a front row seat to services. Even when she grew ill in her final months, she had been upbeat, sweet, and Christian to her core. Finding her resting place and her Church had been knocked down in favor of a little strip plaza had not sat as well with him as the Church had. Now you could guy spare auto parts, funko pops, booze, and electronics in what used to be the hollowed ground most his neighbors had been buried in.

Booker downed another round, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it sloshed down his throat. He forced himself to breathe. As bad as things had been in the six months after Andy gave him the sentence, the hours since he had left this morning had been worse. Getting another taste of what life could have been like if he had not so badly screwed up, was like a prisoner getting a royal feast and then being sent back to the dungeons to live off raw rats and stale bread.

As Booker was about to signal the waitress for a refill, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He let out a pained laugh. He was hallucinating. The booze was finally beginning to affect him.

Shandiin shook her head at him, before moving around his side to sit next to him in his little booth. She signaled to the waitress, who quickly came over. Booker downed the last of the alcohol he had with the intention to order another round for the table of imaginary drinkers.

“Can I get a cup of tea and he’ll have a large glass of water.”

The waitress nodded, heading off before Booker could swallow and ask for a real drink. Neither he or Shandiin spoke until the waitress came back with the new drinks and cleared away the empty bottles and glasses. Shandiin said nothing as she sipped her tea, looking out at the rest of the bar.

“You still don’t drink?”, he asked her, in disbelief that she could have gone this long sober.

She shook her head as she swallowed another drink of tea.

“I like my tea. Doesn’t quite taste like it used to but still tastes good. Been making a point of trying new teas everywhere I go. I am quite the connoisseur these days.”

“You always did drink too much tea.”, he tried to tease, despite himself.

Shandiin’s stormy eyes moved to him, her look pinning him in place for a long moment before she arched her eyebrow and spoke at last.

“You always did drink too much.”

He nodded.

“Fair.”

“Andy and everyone are worried.”

Booker barked out a dark laugh, almost hysterical to Shandiin’s ears. His eyes weren’t totally focused and she was fairly certain he was drifting off to another time and place.

“I almost got Andy killed, could have damned Nile to centuries tied to a laboratory slab, Nicky and Joe had to watch each other being dissected, and they are worried about me. Might want to get their heads examined.”

He seemed to deflate a bit, using the table to keep himself upright enough to stare into his tall glass of water. Shandiin shook her head at him.

“You always were an idiot Why Andy recruited you, sometimes eludes me.”

Booker gave a slight nod.

“They needed a forger, someone who could make them disappear as whoever they had been and then appear elsewhere as who they would be. Used to be simpler, when all it took to forge was a fine hand, some good paper, and the right ink. Now it’s retinal scans and finger prints. Digital hoops and circuits.”

Shandiin arched an eyebrow again at her old friend.

“How much alcohol did you have to give you temporary brain damage, you leathcheann?”

Shrugging, Booker looked over at her, confused as he always got by her lapsing into one of the two languages she had spoken long before she had call to speak much English. She did not get a chance for her answer before Booker passed out. It wouldn’t last long, but the half-drunken disorientation would last a while after. Shandiin left a hefty tip along with enough to cover Booker’s tab, then hefted him up with his one arm over her shoulders and her left arm wrapped around his back. The young waitress came over, offering to call a cab for them but Shandiin waved it off with her polite thanks.

Booker started coming to a minute after they left the bar. Thankfully, none of the other patrons saw this or they might have questioned how someone could drink as much as Booker had at just that last bar, and still be conscious at all rather than dead on the floor. And that did not count whatever he had gotten at the previous establishments he imbibed within.

They stumbled until they reached a little park area with a couple abandoned benches. Shandiin guided Booker to sit in one and she stood straight, rolling her shoulders and letting out a breath. Never would she have imagined he had gotten this bad in the century she had been missing. She had shared his near-constant nightmares about Quynh’s repeated deaths and yet she still had not expected this level of damage.

Booker started to really rouse and Shandiin moved to sit next to him on the bench. It did not take long for Booker’s head to clear enough for him to open his eyes and look around, then to Shandiin.

“How did I end up out here?”

“Cause you weigh as much as a small car, Livre. I could maneuver you no farther than this, and I was afraid you’d regenerate a healthy liver right there at the pub you almost drank dry. I couldn’t drag your drunken carcass any further, so here we are.”

He nodded.

“Sorry.”

“Livre, one of these days, you’re going to pull one of these stunts and you aren’t going to come back from it. And if that happens, I will skewer you before you get a chance to finally die.”

He nodded, recalling that skewering was one of her favorite threats to make. When someone startled her awake, when someone used the last of the tea, or when someone expected her to be clear-headed after an early wake-up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Now you owe me thirty, plus your tab at the last bar.”

“Why did you come after me? I explained why I was leaving.”

“I didn’t get a vote on your punishment, nor was I put at risk by your actions, so I can do whatever I damn well please. Besides, Andy texted me. She got a call from Copley with a job. Quynh is new to this world’s weapons, I haven’t worked with a team in over a hundred years, and Nile is new to the team and relative-immortality. We need the full team.”

Booker nodded. There had never been a thought in his mind, that if they had needed him during his punishment, he would have come running. He never would have abandoned them.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll be able to walk without help.”

She nodded.

“Any word on the nature of the job?”

“It’s someplace in North Korea. I had already left when he called, so I got a rough sketch text.”

“Ever been?”

“To North Korea? No. I went to South Korea in like… 1960-something, I think. I was in Japan for a few months, right around 1930-1931. Then I had that trouble and ended up in New Zealand for… quite a while.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.”

Shandiin smiled over at Booker. He could have spent days sketching the different smiles she had. This one was a touch pained but every bit brave.

“Come on, lets get you home. Nicky has probably been worrying, waiting for Nile and Joe to get back.”

Booker nodded and rose with her, walking back towards the house. The team needed them and they could not dilly-dally without further worrying Andy. Booker wouldn’t hurt Andy for the world. Not again.

~^~^~^~^~

Three Days Later- In a Safe House in North Korea

Nicky and Nile practiced in the small practice ring. He, Joe, and Andy had been taking turns teaching Nile various skills they had acquired over the centuries. Andy had been teaching Nile how to make use of an axe and a certain sword Andy favored, claiming both were more about dexterity, speed, and the ability to predict where the other person would move. Joe and Nicky were teaching her to incorporate random weapons she might pick up, along with her skills she already had using firearms. Today, Nicky was working on using a baton in one hand, gun in the other.

“It is simple, you wait for them to step like this.”, he said as he demonstrated the movement she was supposed to watch for.

“You sidestep, using the baton to protect your forearm and make your hit more painful to your enemy, then you step forward with the pistol and shoot them here.”, he said as he pointed to a spot on his chest.

“We try it now.”, he said before stepping back to where he had been when they started, allowing Nile to do the same.

“We’re going in tomorrow night, huh?

He nodded, then stepped forward with his rubber knife as if to strike Nile in the lower abdomen. She did as he had instructed, both moving slowly enough for anyone watching to easily follow what they were doing as Nile pressed the plastic gun to Nicky’s chest. He smiled.

“Good. You learn quick.”

She smiled back, returning to her former position.

“Thanks.”

Nicky looked away, over her shoulder and smiled brightly.

“Shans! Come, Nile has been mastering a new move.”

Shandiin walked in, her own attire note quite matching Nicky as well as it did Nile. Nicky wore baggy, shiny workout pants with a simple gray Tshirt while Nile and Shandiin had both gotten running leggings with Tshirts. Nile had always opted for this kind of gear when she was running or climbing back home, but she assumed Shandiin had fallen into it once it came into fashion.

Nicky came at her, letting Nile show off her new skill as Shandiin watched from the edge of the designated sparring area. She clapped when Nile finished Nicky off.

“Good job! He’s right, you do learn fast.”

“You should show her something with your hammer.”, Nicky added as he moved to get a bottle of water and wipe his sweaty face with a towel.

Nile looked back and forth between them, slightly confused.

“Hammer? Like what Thor carries, or is this another reference I’m not old enough to get?”

Nicky chuckled a little as Shandiin reached into the case with her name on it, next to the bench that Nicky’s box was sitting on top of and a second with Nile’s name denoting her own trunk. She retrieved a weapon Nile didn’t recognize right off, though she could see where someone might describe it as some sort of hammer.

The whole length of it was comparable to Andy’s axe, but rather than the rounded head of an axe, this had a hammer head that had four prong-like protrusions of the face end and a nasty looking curved spike coming out where a hammer claws would normally be, with two smaller spikes coming out each cheek and a flat top to the head of the hammer. The grip area was wrapped with well-worn leather and the wooden shaft looked to have been made with a solid, heavy wood.

“How did you come to use this? Isn’t that… Medieval?”

Shandiin shrugged. Holding it out to allow Nile to take the handle, she offered an encouraging smile. Nile took the hammer, her arms dropping a little when Shandiin released her hold of the weapon. It was heavier than it looked.

“When I was a kid, my mum still had her grandfather’s shillelagh. She taught me how to defend myself with it and I was good. My father taught me to use his preferred weapons, including an axe of sorts. When I was in France, many, many years later, there was an older man who taught me how to use a battle axe after seeing me defend his home and his granddaughter with a broken scythe.”

“Like what the grim reaper carries?”, Nile asked as she adjusted the war hammer to hold it more like a bat.

Shandiin grinned.

“Exactly. Now, first we have to work on your stance. Spread your ankles wider, and move your right hand up a little further.”

Nile followed the instructions. Shandiin looked her over, reaching to adjust Nile’s lower hand a bit.

“Good. You’re getting it. If Nicky here were to run at you, aim for center-mass. We can work on legs and necks later. Now, if he’s in the kind of armor most people wear these days, you can use either end. Mine has a pronged face, which means it works a bit more like a meat tenderizer and less like a ballpeen hammer. The spiked end is great if the person is wearing plate armor or something more like chain mail. Comes in handy for thick layers of leather and Kevlar, as well.”

“So, it’s basically baseball bat with a hammer at the end?”

“For the most part, although slightly more versatile.”

Shandiin reached out and Nile handed it back to her. Nicky stood up, smiling a little as he got out the heavy rubber version of his sword and squared off in front of Shandiin. Nile moved to sit on the bench, between she and Nicky’s boxes, her own bottle of water in hand as she watched.

Nicky dove at Shandiin and she used her battle hammer to trip him as she side-stepped and spun, pulling the hammer back up to deflect the backwards blow he sent her way. That’s when Nile noticed a slim line of metal running up the front and back of the shaft.

The two smiled, facing each other again as Nicky dove forward, his sword straight and aimed for Shandiin’s middle. She side-stepped to the left, pulling the hammer up and striking at Nicky. If not for Shandiin’s holding back at the last second, the blow would have put the spiked-end of her hammer down into the juncture where Nicky’s throat met his shoulder. They each stepped back again, and this time Nicky came at her with repeated, quick blows from his broadsword. Shandiin mostly dodged until Nicky came past her, and Shandiin playfully smacked Nicky’s back with the end of the handle, with her hand slightly above the leather-bound grip.

Both turned to face Nile, smiling and a little goofy looking with their weapons and grins. Nile smiled back, thinking of how she and her fellow marines used to feel after a sparring session or after beating some record on the track.

“Now, in a real fight, I would have had to work a LOT harder for that, but since I had a real weapon, he had a rubber one, and neither of us were in the mood to clean blood out of our shirts later… but I think the illustration still stands.”

Nile nodded.

“I can see how you’d use it. I’m still wrapping my head around you using a Shillelagh and a Scythe, and that’s how you ended up using a war hammer.”

“I’m tall and I worked all my life, it wasn’t as hard to figure this out as using a sword was. I never did get very far trying to learn Nicky or Joe’s favored weapons.”

“Pretty good with rifles, as I recall.”

“Yeah, but we had those on the ranch, so I had a lot of practice long before I met you all.”, she said before turning back to Nile, “I’m also terrible with a slingshot. I can use a blow gun, or at least I could, a few decades ago, and don’t ask, it’s a terrible story.”

Nile just nodded. She was about to suggest she and Shandiin spar a bit when Booker walked in, wearing long cargo pants and a Tshirt. It was pretty similar to what he wore when they were going in for a fight, from what she had seen at the safe houses of everyone’s stuff. Nicky looked up at Booker, his amusement from a moment ago evaporating. He got up and left without a word, just his rubber sword and his water.

It confused Nile a bit, how Joe could seemingly be so ready to forgive and forget since Booker came back with Shandiin and Quynh, and how Nicky could have specifically cooked Booker’s favorite type of pancakes the other day, yet now Nicky was acting this way. She glanced over at Booker and Shandiin to see if they looked as confused as she felt. Booker just looked pained. Shandiin looked angry.

“I’m gonna go check on Nicky.”, Nile offered.

“He just needs some more time.”, Shandiin said before turning to put her weapon away.

Nile looked to Booker. He offered a small, encouraging smile. Nile nodded once back before going off after Nicky.

“I get that you did what you did but… I thought Nicky would be more forgiving. He was a freakin’ priest, after all.”, Shandiin groused as she reorganized her box.

Booker let out a sigh.

“My actions could have condemned nearly everyone he cares about, to spend the rest of their lives tied to a table, being poked, prodded, studied, and dissected.”

Shandiin turned to him, with a look Andy recognized as she watched the two. Shaking her head, Andy turned to go check on Nicky, Nile, Joe, and Quynh. Joe had been giving Quynh cell phone and laptop lessons to help catch her up, and no doubt Nicky would have joined and Nile would be walking in to find the trio hard at Catch Up.

Sure enough, Andy walked in to find exactly what she expected. Joe and Quynh were on the floor in front of a battered coffee table, going over using the internet and Email. Nicky had moved to sit on a low sofa with a book, his hand drifting to his husband’s shoulder to offer an encouraging squeeze when things weren’t going so well with Quynh’s lessons. Nile had moved to another seat to play with her new cell phone.

Andy moved to sit on the other end of the sofa Nile was sitting on. She had just laid back, her feet propped on the arm of Nicky’s couch, when Nile looked up at Andy. Without looking, Andy knew the expression. A question was coming.

“What is the story with Shandiin? I mean, I know how she became an immortal and that you guys picked her up in the late 1870s, early 1880s, but… then she just disappeared a hundred or so years ago and reappeared last week.”

Andy let out a slow breath. She could see that Joe and Nicky had exchanged a quick look before opting to let Andy do the explaining this time. Quynh seemed as curious as Nile, having abandoned the computer in favor of looking at Andy.

“She traveled with us for a while. From the get-go, she was always closer with Booker. They were born close enough together, the world looked similar enough for them. Neither of them had our kind of age on them, both had seen some of the worst parts of humanity even before they became like us.”, she let out a slow breath as she thought about it.

Nile looked up, a thoughtful expression on her young face. It seemed she was weighing something. Andy waited.

“Her disappearance weighs on you, especially Booker. He looks the same way whenever her disappearance is mentioned, as you looked when I asked who Quynh was.”

Andy sucked in a breath, Quynh’s hand moving to lay over Andy’s knee. Andy reached, covering her wife’s hand. They grounded each other in the Here and Now.

“We had to split up. Joe and Nicky went with me, since Nicky spoke French so well, and his Italian was perfect.”

Nile looked over, seeing the slight smile on Joe’s face at the compliment to his husband, while Nicky looked guilty. Joe reached, taking his husband’s hand. Nile swore she could feel radiating waves of comfort from Joe and Quynh as they looked after their spouses.

“Booker spoke French perfectly, and his Italian was pretty good, so he and Shandiin were the second team, while Joe, Nicky, and I were supposed to create a distraction and Booker would go with Shandiin and they’d get the hostages we were sent in for. The families of men who were being made to work to build better, deadlier weapons for their masters under threat of their families paying for delays or rebellion.”

Andy left off, trying to force the rest of the story out. Instead, Joe finished.

“She had her neck broken, then Shandiin woke up, freed Booker from where he had been impaled and pinned to a wall. They stood together to fight. When they were captured again, they took Booker one way, Shandiin the other. Booker said one of the men had mention them burning her like they did the witches of old. He assumed, from what he heard, that they had burned her beyond her immortality’s ability to regenerate.”

Nicky continued, when Joe seemed to run out of steam.

“None of us could feel her anymore, she had been around long enough that the dreams were all gone. Until she showed up at Booker’s hideout in Italy last week, Joe, Andy, all of us thought her dead.”

Nile nodded, all of the pieces coming together.

“And Booker blamed himself.”

She looked to see Andy’s nod.

“She could have just escaped, but she stayed and put herself back in the frying pan to save him. He had been headed for a watery grave not unlike Quynh.”, she swallowed thickly, then continued. “Then she got captured trying to protect him as he had been trying to get his wits back after all that had just happened to him as the second wave came in.”

~^~^~^~^~^~

A Bombed-Out town in France – 1914

Booker checked over his shoulder. Shandiin was there, her battle hammer in hand, knives, a pair of revolvers, and a pick-axe all on her person. He himself was armed with a rifle, two new pistols, and a long dagger, as well as having a pack full of dynamite. They were as ready as they were ever going to be as they awaited Andromache’s signal.

Turning to face Shandiin, he watched her face. They all were quite horrified by what this Great War had brought. They called it the War to End All Wars. Booker was not so old as Joe and Nick, and certainly not so ancient as Andromache, yet even he knew human nature too well to ever believe in such a thing. Shandiin prayed for it to be true, even if she was just as skeptical of it as the rest of them. She and Joe, always praying for the impossible.

“You ready?”

She nodded, leaning closer to hear him better over the noise of the gunfire and small bombs in the nearby front line. Their mission was simple. On Andromache’s signal, they would charge into the small garrison that had been set up, they would bust down the meager gate, get inside, and rescue the wives and children who were being held to force scientists and other useful men into doing their masters’ will. They would help the families flee and regroup with Andromache, Joe, and Nick, who would be waiting out in the woods after they finished with the distraction that was also to serve as Andromache’s signal.

“You have the explosives?”

He almost rolled his eyes, instead shooting her a look. Of course, he had the explosives. Explosives were his other job on the team, aside from forging.

“She’s taking her sweet time.”, Shandiin groused without any actual heat.

Booker found himself staring at her lips as much out of necessity in the noise, as for the newfound habit of staring too long at her lips. Shandiin caught him this time, a knowing look crossing her features. They stared, both standing at the precipice. Shandiin leaned, her eyes closing as Booker tilted his head in anticipation. The sky blazed and a sound like the boom of thunder shaking the ground beneath their feet.

“The signal!”, they both said in unison before taking off for the makeshift garrison.

The gates were flimsy enough for Booker to be able to barrel through them by his sheer brawn while Shandiin hammered the three guardsmen who fell in behind Booker. The two of them moved smoothly after over 30 years of practice. Booker shot with his rifle and Shandiin cracked heads with her hammer. Together, they cleared a path down to the dug-out tunnels.

Booker consulted the little map while Shandiin kept an eye for any threat. The little scribbled map indicated that they needed to take the second left after reaching the tunnels. Booker indicated and Shandiin followed the direction. A moment later, the pair busted through a thin wooden door. Booker was shot twice in the chest but Shandiin fired two rounds from her revolver and eliminated the guards who had been watching the families.

Booker lay, letting the bullets work their way out as he healed. Shandiin moved towards the families, sparring a glance back to Booker. He waved once to let her know to keep going. She looked the mothers and wives in the eyes, gesturing for them to follow her. Booker was the francophone here. She barely knew more than half a dozen words in French.

Booker was able to get up in time to follow the last two women out, the children shoved to the middle of the group out of sheer protective instinct on the part of the female hostages. It only took a moment to get back up to the main level where the garrison and battle were. Unfortunately, they came up to find six guardsmen waiting for them.

Booker moved to block the guards’ shots, just as Shandiin was already doing as she gestured for the women to shove the children back. Booker muttered an order in French for the women to back the children up. They did so, nearly all of them crying and looking panic-stricken. No doubt they all expected to die in the next minute.

Shandiin and Booker barely exchanged a look before they were moving. She threw her hammer at the leader, Booker shot two of the guardsmen. He heard Shandiin’s hissing as a shot nicked her thigh. Booker moved away, charging with his bayonet. He continued to struggle with the two soldiers in front of him as he kept shoving them away from the hostages.

There was another explosion. Booker only barely registered that his sack was on fire before he felt the heat of the explosives in his pack as they burst into flame. Then Booker felt nothing. The blackness that awaited them every time they died. He wondered if this was it. Perhaps this time he would not revive.

Except he did. Bursting forward, screaming as he felt his body burned and torn, trying to weave itself back together. Shandiin appeared in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders. He realized he was just about naked, only a few strips of clothing still clinging to him. It reminded him of his time in Russia, before Andromache found him.

“Come on! Come on! I’ve got you!”, Shandiin cried out over his screaming and the fighting that was closer than when he had died.

Shandiin dragged him back towards the entrance of the tunnels, shoving a blanket over him. He had no weapons, his internal organs were exposed, and all he could do was lay there and scream. Everything burned. He felt as if acid had been mixed with his blood.

There was another explosion, trapping Booker at the entrance of the tunnels. He felt the debris in his still-healing wounds and heard Shandiin’s screaming his name. He reached but his arm was trapped under a rock. Booker thrashed and bucked. Wildly, he tried to claw and fight to get to her.

And then, the world went black. He felt nothing. His next memory was of waking up between two trees, wearing Nicky’s outer jacket and Andromache’s blanket tied around his waist. Joe had been wiping the dirt and blood from Booker’s lower legs as Booker called for Shandiin.

“Booker?”

Andromache came into view, letting out a slow breath before Nick rushed over, reacting almost identically. Booker looked. He couldn’t find Shandiin.

“We got the hostages out to safety. Our friend picked them up with her group and led them out. They are all safe. Not a bullet wound in the lot.”, Joe offered sadly.

“Where is Shandiin?”, Booker wheezed out.

Andromache’s head dropped. Joe and Nick shared a look. Booker _knew_. Without any further confirmation, he knew. Shandiin was gone.

“There was an explosion. We heard it and came running back. Two of the hostages were dragging you out, saying that Shandiin had been further in the tunnels and… there was a gas. Two of the soldiers died, convulsing and… I’m sorry, Booker. We couldn’t get to her before the whole garrison blew up. They must have had some artillery or something down there that no one knew about.”, Nicky tried to explain.

Booker barely heard any of it. Shandiin was gone. And this time, she was not coming back.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Present Day – A Safe House in North Korea

Andy got up and headed back into the room to see Booker and Shandiin. She would not intrude, but she needed to see them. To know they were here, alive, and alright. It was like an itch she could not ignore, a weight compressing her lungs.

In retelling the story to Nile, who was understandably curious, Andy had found herself able to smell the burning flesh of Booker’s wounds from over a century prior. She could hear the screams of the children and women rushing away from that battlefield. The wound of having to tell her team that they had lost another soldier, was as fresh as the moment she had needed Nick and Joe to explain to Booker, in that forest half a world and over a hundred years away from Here and Now.

She found the two were still sparring. Sweat dripped from both of their bodies, Booker’s shirt had a dark streak down the back and in the middle of his chest from sweating, Shandiin’s was soaked. They were circling each other, Booker with a baton in one hand and fake-gun in the other, Shandiin’ with a pair of rubber knives. Andy watched them circling, both smiling slightly at each other.

Shandiin had always held up well for someone who, three out of four times in their group, had been sparring with someone who had centuries’ worth of experience on her. Booker had mere decades on her, enough that even now he was winning slightly more often than Shandiin was at their sparring matches. However, Andy noted, it was taking longer for Booker to make kill shots than it used to.

Andy winced as she thought about that. That kind of skill was not gotten from a book. It was hard-won from losing and hurting, from walking away with a lot of broken bones and lost blood. All fights that Shandiin had faced alone, without Andromache and her team.

Faintly, Andy could hear their conversation enough to follow as they got some water on a break from the sparring. Shandiin had inquired as to why Nicky seemed to be alright with Booker and then so distant and angry quickly thereafter. Booker tried to explain. It did not seem to satisfy Shandiin.

“I know why they are angry with you, Book… I just wish they could move on from it a bit quicker. I’m worried how it will affect us tomorrow. And honestly, from what Nile has shared and what little you’ve told me, you were played and so was this Copley. Merrick played the two of you and the two of you fell for it, taking this team with you. It wasn’t like you meant for the lot of you to rot forever in a lab.”

“Anyone who causes harm to Andy will face their wrath, and worse, I made each of them suffer. I shot Andy, could have killed her. Nicky can’t deal with Joe’s being in pain and Joe isn’t any better at seeing Nicky in pain, and neither would allow harm to come to Andy. I got them shot, strapped to lab equipment, and worse. I’d be worried if they were treating me as if nothing had happened.”, he tried to reason.

Shandiin let out a half-laugh as Booker took a drink from her water bottle.

“Cause you would think they had lost their minds?”

He shook his head, not ready to joke about what had transpired.

“I deserve their scorn.”

Shandiin smacked him upside the back of his head with the flat of her hand.

“What was that for?”

Her glare could have been registered as a deadly weapon.

“You are always so willing to be hated. To have people hurt you. It’s annoying.”

Booker looked away, setting the water bottle aside.

“Were you always this grumpy?

He heard her growl before she answered.

“I missed you jerks for over a century! I come back and find out there’s a new girl, Andy’s immortality is shot, Joe and Nicky are rightfully angry at you, Quynh’s back, and you’re an itinerate drunk mess with suicidal ideations and a guilt complex.”

Arching an eyebrow, Booker looked her up and down. Those were some very specific words that generally only got so decisively tossed about by a very particular set of people.

“I got a degree in psychology a while back.”

That make sense, he supposed.

“You always did like books.”

Shandiin grinned up at him.

“Get any other degrees?”

“Philosophy, American history- which they mostly get wrong, Celtic history- slightly less wrong, and for a while I worked as an art historian with some fake papers and a LOT of reading.”

She took a swig from her water bottle, then pointed at the practice area.

“What do you say, one more round?”

“Sure.”

Andy watched for a moment longer, before she felt a slim, strong hand on her hip, the matching hand moving to lay on her opposite shoulder. A second later, a chin rested on Andy’s free shoulder. Andy smiled. Quynh always did like watching from behind Andy, over her shoulder, as Nicky and Joe sparred or years before, when Lykon was practicing his meditations.

“Last night, we were discussing out future.”

Andy nodded.

“If you wish it, I will go off with you, to live out your days with you. We can go wherever you want to, Andromache. Paris, Italy, some remote part of Africa, or to a beautiful seaside village. You could have a normal life, with… whatever time you have left.”

“Then what?”

“I would come back. I would take care of your team, for the rest of my life, Andromache. I would look after them for you until the Goddess returned me to you.”

“I can’t leave them. Not yet, maybe eventually, but… not right now. I need them, Quynh.”, she said before turning in Quynh’s arms. “I need _all_ of you.”

Quynh’s eyes were watery but her smile was every bit as beautiful as Andy remembered. She was not the poet Joe was, though she understood his inspiration he got from Nicky’s smile whenever she was faced with Quynh’s. Quynh kissed Andy, her lips as soft and pliant as they had been millennia ago when she first kissed Andy. In a dessert where a metropolis now stood.

“I’m not leaving you again, my love. Never.”, Quynh told her when they came up for air.

Andy smiled, then turned back to watch the pair below, as they continued to spar. Their rubber knives flew through the air at speed, while the two ducked, dived, and swerved, always able to keep just out of the other’s reach. Booker was stronger and taller, but Shandiin was faster and more flexible. They were well matched, each playing to their strengths.

Andy could hear them, trading jokes and insults, toying with each other. It reminded her of when she and Quynh used to spar, before Quynh had to worry that Andy wouldn’t heal from any accidental injury and when Andy did not have to worry that pinning Quynh would send her wife into a wild panic. The image below was a mirror of their more carefree days. Quynh tugged Andy away, leaving the two to spar below in peace.

Finally, Booker got Shandiin well-pinned. He had her twisted just right so that with a quick movement of his hips, he could snap her spine and his one forearm rested against her shoulders to pin her so she could not buck him. He was about to comment on his win when he felt a poke at his side. He looked to see the rubber knife pointed at the perfect spot near his ribs, to take out his lung and a few other vital bits if this had been a real fight. His snap of her spine would be too low to stop her arm from moving forward, and under such pain and adrenalin, someone with Shandiin’s skill would surely get the sharp knife embedded deeply enough to gut Booker and possibly nick his spine before she stopped.

“Guess it would be mutually assured destruction.”, she offered with a smile as he looked up at Booker’s smile.

He was amused at her turn of phrase and her grin she wore almost like a challenge. Her cheeks went rosey, strands of her raven hair plastered to her neck and forehead, sweat glistening over her skin. She looked happy and so… alive. For so long, Booker had only gotten breaks from his nightmares of Quynh’s death and the loss of his sons, when he was busy having nightmares about those last moments of consciousness in the tunnels in France and the looks on Andy, Joe, and Nicky’s face as they had to break the news of her loss. Seeing her now, so vibrant and forceful, glowing with good humour, Booker felt a lightness in his chest.

Leaning forward, ever so slightly, tentatively, Booker closed the gap between he and Shandiin. His hand that had been on her ribcage to help pin her, moved down towards her waist, his thumb rubbing across the little bit of skin he found there between her bunched-up shirt and her leggings. He heard her knife drop then felt her hand moving to hold Booker’s side, her other hand moving to the back of his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss.

Booker broke off the kiss, panting. He searched her face. Those stormy grey eyes looked back at him, pupils blown and irises dark.

“Mutually assured destruction.”, Booker echoed.

Shandiin panted out a laugh.

“I think we’ve been circling the dance floor long enough, don’t you?”

He considered, recalling how they had almost kissed, twice, before she disappeared.

“And if the team send me packing again, to finish out my sentence, when this is over?”

He had to know. As much as it pained him to bring it up just now, he _had_ to know. Shandiin offered a small smile.

“I wasn’t here for the vote, so I’m exempt and can go running off to visit you.”

Booker pushed a stray strand of hair away from her eye, tucking it back behind her ear, then traced the shell as he watched her face.

“Can you accept that this will only be… a little here and there… for the next century?”

Shandiin chuckled.

“After so long on my own, I will be glad to get any of you I can have, however often as I’m able to, Livre.”

Booker felt a real smile on his lips as he looked at her flushed, smiling face.

“You could call me Sebastian, you know?”

“Sorry, just so used to calling you ‘Booker’ most of the time, and ‘Livre’ when I’m mad… or worried.”

Booker moved to kiss her again only to feel adrift as Shandiin shifted, twisting her body until their positions were reversed and now he lay flat on his back with her atop of him. Her hands moved, capturing his and holding them at either side of his head, palm to palm, fingers intertwined and she leaned down to kiss him. When they broke for air, Booker could feel the smile spreading across his face, and a lightness growing further in his chest.

“What now?”, he asked of her.

Shandiin shrugged, still holding his hands.

“I need a shower and you look like you need a week’s worth of sleep. Tomorrow, we have to save those girls and… after that, it’s up to us.”

Shandiin stood, offering a hand to help Booker up. He took it. They had to clean up in time for dinner, followed by planning, then an attempt to sleep before final preparations for tomorrow night. Booker just hoped this mission went better than France in ’14.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leathcheann = Gaelic for "Idiot"


	4. United in Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the team to take on their first assignment in their full force of seven. Copley learns of a new threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been too long since I updated. Sorry. Been a little crazy of late.
> 
> Triggers: Biggest one is a sawblade hitting one of the team, but I don't go into any gory detail. Mentions of students being kidnapped with the intention of being sold into the slave trade (spoiler alert, the Old Guard does NOT let this happen), nightmares, cleaning up blood stains post-battle, and the idea of fighting death and the devil in order to get back to the people you love.

Korea – The Next Morning

They arrived stealthily in two cars. Nicky, Joe, Andy, and Quynh in the first car, Nile, Shandiin, and Booker in the second. Copley had set it all up.

They would arrive and park on the western edge of the property. The change of the guards between who was Inside and who was Outside would happen at near 0900, and that was their window. The train came by at the same time and the noise of it would cover their entry until it was too late for the guys inside to do much more than try to escape.

Once they had gotten inside, they were supposed to head down two levels within the defunked factory, take the second right down a narrow hallway, and open the fourth door to their right, where the kidnapped students the gang had been holding, would be located. They would get the girls out, and Copley would have two vans waiting on the other side of the train tracks- putting them on the other side of the border, and the team was to get the girls into the vans, then disappear out of the area using the two cars they had come in.

This time tomorrow, if all went to plan, they would be on a plane to London. Copley had already sent them what they needed, just in case they had to split up or take another route. Andy and Quynh had the papers to be a married couple, Quinn and Andrea Scythe. Joe and Nicky would travel as Yusef and Niklaus Sani, newlyweds on their honeymoon. Everyone had paperwork and a cover.

Nile pulled out the binoculars and checked the scene while Booker and Shandiin got their gear ready. Over their earpiece radios, they heard Joe, Nicky, Quynh, and Andy were getting their own gear ready, with Andy checking the scene just like Nile was. Once they saw the three guys out front checking their own radios and the train blared its horn to signal it was about to come past the crossing, they would need to fly out of their cars and make their move.

“You guys ready for this?”, they heard Andy ask in a slightly teasing tone.

“We’ve got your six, boss.”, came Joe’s answer.

Nile thought about this morning, when Andy went to have a last chat over the phone with Copley, to make final arrangements. Joe and Nicky had agreed they would take the point in shielding Andy, Quynh and Nile would stick close to Andy at all times to make sure she was covered, while Shandiin and Booker would bring up the rear as they went through the building. Andy insisted on going first. She always went first, but once she had busted through a door, Nicky and Joe would swarm the room ahead of head and Booker would be back with Shandiin to make sure no one got their six, leaving Quynh and Nile to be the human shields on Andy’s sides.

Andy had already figured out that Nicky, Joe, and Nile were doing a version of this during the months Booker had been gone, before Quynh and Shandiin reappeared. She hadn’t liked it though she understood pretty quickly that there was no fighting it. She was mortal again, which meant she was far more vulnerable than the rest of them and they were all willing to fight to protect her. Any one of them would have died, and stayed dead, to protect Andy.

Due to Copley wanting to help shield their identities, even from the people they would be helping, they were all wearing cloth masks to conceal their faces. Thin enough to easily breathe through but all black with a layer meant to wreak havoc on digital cameras attempting to capture their images. Playback would reveal forms up to the shoulders, which would be fuzzed up, and the heads so blurred they would look like large, dark gray circles.

“Heads up.”

They all headed Andy’s call and made ready to jump out and strike. It was another two breaths before they heard the train whistle blow. All at once, they whole team sprang into action.

Andy ran, Quynh right at her side, Joe and Nicky close in their wake. Nile formed the tip of a triangle with Shandiin and Booker. They converged just before Andy hit the door.

There were three guards at the door, four more just inside of it. The seven of them made quick work of the guys and quietly made their way down. Even as they descended the stairs, the train whistle was so loud that all of them were wincing a bit and unable to hear their own footsteps on the metal stairs.

They arrived at the floor Copley instructed them to go to, Andy leading the way down the hall. Nicky and Joe quickly pointed their guns at the doors, ensuring if anyone popped out they would be dead before they had a chance to take aim at Andy. Quynh and Nile stayed close enough in the narrow hall, to each have a hip or elbow touching Andy, their heads on swivels. Booker and Shandiin took turns being the last person through a door and around a corner, double checking under stairs, behind open doors, and looking up high to make sure no one was aiming from a level above.

Andy came to the correct door, by Copley’s instructions. Quynh took Andy’s elbow and Nile kicked the door in. There were three guards armed and firing once the door came down. Nile and Quynh shoved themselves in the doorway, each taking several shots from the automatic weapons before Andy dove past them with her axe.

Joe was right with her as Quynh and Nile recovered, Nicky helping both of them stay upright. Looking back, Nicky could hear a shout from Booker, then gunfire. Shandiin and Booker were stuck halfway back the hall, shooting back at several armed men making their way down the back stair towards the team.

“We’ve got company in the back!”, he shouted to Andy and the others as he turned to cover their backs, helping Booker and Shandiin.

Suddenly, Shandiin ran forwards down the narrow hallway that had bottlenecked the advancing group. She had her war hammer out, using the open space above her head to pull the hammer up and bring it back down to smash the heads, shoulders, and weapons that she came into contact with. They could hear her war cry as she battled her way through, Booker cleaning up anyone who had enough left him them to try to get up or go for a gun after Shandiin had taken a whack at them.

Nicky was a bit amazed. It was like a scene from a century earlier. Shandiin wildly flinging herself into the thick of a fight, Booker trailing behind her much as he had done for her and Andy over the years, covering their backs, while Nicky and Joe helped clear a swath and covered the sides.

Andy, Nile, and Quynh circled the girls they all came for, and Joe signaled for Nicky to check the door. It was clear. He signaled for them to follow him back out. Shandiin and Booker cleared a path to the front, Nicky falling back to be next to Joe, holding the rear.

They made it back down the hall, only to find a group of armed thugs coming down the hall they had entered through. Booker growled while Andy groused about Copley’s intel. Nicky signaled, reminding everyone of the back exit they had planned to use if they needed to. The whole team shifted for Nicky and Joe to lead through the back doors meant for unloading cargo.

From the schematics they had looked at, there would be a loading area just behind the double frate doors, with fat block walls shielding the sides. It was a more defensible position for them to take while Andy, Nile, and Quynh got the kids offloaded out to the back. Then, it was a fairly short run to the train tracks to get the kids safely across the border, to Copley’s waiting vans.

Nicky slipped left, Joe right, opening a space for Andy, Quynh, and Nile to lead the students down through safely. Just as Andy scooped up two of the smaller girls in order to help them up onto the loading platform behind the frate door, there was a clatter. Nicky looked up to see several pieces of equipment free-falling down from their rigging in the ceiling.

Nicky moved, shoving several students out of the path of a pair of chains each as thick as his thigh with some kind of hooks at the end. He looked over to see Joe splayed over another group of students, shielding them as a spray of springs, bolts, and nuts rained down. The girls were all screaming, yet Nicky picked out Shandiin and Nile’s voices shouting out for Booker.

He turned, seeing why they were both screaming. Among the items that had fallen, there had been a 4ft tall buzz saw blade that had come down. From what Nicky could see, Booker had shoved Andy and the two little girls she had been helping, then shielded them with his own body.

Shandiin and Nile moved, Shandiin shoving the handle of her war hammer into the center hole of the sawblade, Nile taking the other end, and they shoved forward to removed it from Booker’s body. Quynh and Andy were back to moving the kids, and Nicky fired at the two goons who had let loose with the objects from the ceiling.

Nicky moved to try to shield the girls from seeing how bad the damage was, while Joe and Nile held their guns up and eyes moved, in order to cover the evac. Shandiin was assessing the damage, from what Nicky could tell over his shoulder. Nile tapped him once she was sure they were clear. He stepped up to go with her to cover Andy and Quynh getting the girls out.

“Shans, how’s Booker?”

The other man groaned, letting Joe know that Booker hadn’t stayed dead. Shandiin made a noise that sounded a little like a hiss.

“His left side is useless and he’s unconscious.”

“Let’s get him out of here.”

“I’ve got him, go cover Andy and the kids.”

“Nicky and Nile already went. Let me help.”

Shandiin started to argue, but Joe put a hand on her shoulder till her dark eyes came up to meet his.

“You can’t carry him out alone. Let me help.”

She nodded. Together, they scooped Booker’s sliced form up between them, each with one of Booker’s arms slung over their respective shoulders. They hustled him out behind the team and the students.

Andy and Quynh were up front with the kids, shoving them into the waiting arms of Copley’s team. Nile gave a nod when she looked back to see Joe and Shandiin carrying Booker out. Joe helped Shandiin get Booker into one of their cars, then he moved to help make sure the transfer of the young students went smoothly and that no one got any ideas about chasing after the vans the girls were in.

Andy came around, Quynh at her side and Nile trailing aways behind them, to stick her head into the car where Shandiin was using a couple straps from the guns, to hold Booker together. She could see that Booker’s body was weaving itself back together, but because he, like Shandiin and Nile, were still relatively young, he did not stitch quite as rapidly as Joe and Nicky would have from the same injury. No matter who caught that sawblade, it would take a few minutes before they were ready to fight again.

She reached, getting ahold of his better hand. Her other hand moved to cup the back of Booker’s neck as she had done countless times before when he took the brunt of something and was slow coming back. His eyes were moving sluggishly behind his closed lids and his breathing was erratic.

“Come on, Booker. Wake up. Wake up.”

Andy almost shook him before he sprang forward with a rasping groan. He let out a noise that let her know he was too far gone to scream. She had been there before herself, thousands of times over the centuries.

“Damnit Book! Why did you do it?”

He groaned, gasping for breath before answering.

“Couldn’t let… it hit… you.”

She leaned, pressing their foreheads together.

“If it’s my time, Book, it’s my damn time.”

“Not if… I have… something… to say… about it, Andy.”

She felt Nile’s hand on her shoulder.

“Not if any of us have anything to say about it.”

Looking up, she found all of her team, her family, surrounding her. Joe and Nicky were leaning a bit on each other with tearful smiles. Quynh was openly crying as she gave Andy a resolute nod. Shandiin, crouched by Booker’s ankle, gave her own determined nod. Finally, Nile gave Andy’s shoulder a light squeeze then nodded, before moving away to circle the car. Joe and Nicky moved to help.

“Don’t you dare die on me now, Booker. We’ve been through too much for you to quit on me now.”

He gave a slight, sluggish nod. She could see his organs still finishing up, his skin finally starting to knit back together over the edges of the gash. He was wiggling the fingers on his left hand, which meant the nerves were coming back. Booker was almost healed.

“Boss, we got to go, boss.”

Andy nodded. Nicky wasn’t wrong.

“Alright. We ride out.”

Shandiin gave Andy’s elbow a squeeze. She looked up to see the younger woman’s small smile.

“I’ve got him, boss. You go with Nicky, Joe, and Quynh. Nile and I’ve got Booker.”

Andy nodded. Booker would need most of the room of the back to spread out while he healed up. Made more sense to leave him with Nile and Shandiin, while she went with the rest of the team.

“Don’t die on me, Book. Or I’ll find someone to resurrect you just so I can kick your ass.”

Booker offered a small, tired smile. With that, Andy left so Nile could get in beside Booker and Shandiin could move up to the driver’s seat. Both of the cars were manual transmissions and Nile was still a little rough on one, since she had little experience driving them. Especially not in a car where her left hand went to the gearshift instead of her right.

Back in their own car, Andy was with the senior members of the team. She smiled a little to herself. With them having the three younger members- the kids so to speak, then she and Copley as the mortals, it was very different than what it had been two years ago. Yet, she decided, it was a good different.

Joe looked back as he was backing the car out of the small bit of cover they had parked in. She could see the concern on his face. She gave a nod.

Yes, her new circumstances were different, but good. She had her wife back, her team seemed to be making peace with each other again, the newest member was settling in, and their next-to-youngest member had found them again. Plus, with Copley directing them, they had renewed purpose and protection.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Safe House – Two Hours Later

Shandiin sat beside the bed she and he were sharing at the safe house. Strictly speaking, it did not have enough beds for them. Joe and Nicky shared as always, as did Andy and Quynh, leaving one more bed that was too narrow for Nile, Shandiin, and Booker to share. Shandiin had taken the first watch out in the living area and Booker had showered, while Nile got some sleep.

After his shower, Booker had sat quietly in the kitchen with Joe and Nicky. It was eerily quiet to Shandiin’s ears but she could live with it. Then, when it was time to change, Nile had gone out to watch over the place and Shandiin had moved to eat with Andy and Joe. When she came back, Booker was sound asleep on the cot in the corner, Quynh and Nicky each asleep in their respective cots.

Shandiin wanted to talk to Booker about something, but she did not wish to wake him. They all shook off injuries, even ones as serious as what Booker had suffered, with a little time. The fact that he was finally able to sleep, for the first time since he became an immortal with Andy and company, without nightmares of Quynh’s deaths, then later Shandiin and Nile’s. It seemed a shame to wrench him from that so soon, being that it was a fairly new experience for him to sleep this way.

She smiled as she stared at the untouched cola on the little table next to her. Sweat beaded up and made slow tracks down the sides of the off-brand soda can. The muggy room was uncomfortable and sticky, but at least it was safe.

Copley’s intel had been good, however there had been an attempt by someone else earlier in the night, to try to get the gang members who had been holding the girls. A rival gang looking to move in on their slave trade. As such, they had beefed up their security and Copley had been unable to get a message to the team in time to prevent them from walking into a more fortified situation than they had planned for.

Fortunately for them, Andy always made sure they were over-prepared. As such, they had not been overwhelmed by the greater number of armed gang members laying in wait for them. None of them had planned for one of the gang members to pull a lever that let loose everything hanging from the ceiling of the old building.

“Shans?”

She looked over at a groggy Booker. Sweat-slicked, sleep-tousled, and yet still handsome. When the team had first found her, Shandiin recalled thinking that all four of them were attractive. And tall, for the age they were in.

“What time is it?”

“Local? Three in the morning. Back in London, a little later at night.”

He nodded before sitting up. Shandiin handed him the soda, but Booker waved it off.

“Never developed a taste for pop.”

“More for me.”, she said before taking a sip.

“You waiting for me to wake up?”

Shandiin shrugged.

“What’s wrong?”

“You were out for a long time.”

“My body was sewing my arm and ribs back on.”

She nodded, the images still fresh in her mind. She had been finding Booker’s blood in her hair, clothing, and under her nails ever since they got back to the safe house. Booker reached, catching her hand which effectively cut her off from looking at where a little stain remained on the band of her watch.

“It was a very long time.”

“I’ve always healed a little slower, I thought you noticed that back when you first joined?”

“I had forgotten how it felt like an age, waiting for you to revive and heal up.”

Booker let out a long breath.

“Andy regularly loses her temper waiting on me to wake up. Joe said he would blame it on the booze slowing my system up, if not for how Andy healed just fine despite drinking more than I did.”

“Yeah, but she’s got millennia experience on you. Her alcohol tolerance would have been insane compared to even your considerable levels.”

“Hadn’t ever stopped to think on it that much. Just always figured it was connected to how much will we had to wake up. Joe and Nicky, they would fight death herself to get back to each other, and to the rest of the team. Andy would fight the Devil, for any one of us.”

Shandiin looked over at him, having never considered that before. That his will to live, his motivation to keep going, had never been what Andy’s was, and especially not what Nicky and Joe had. Yet to think that, even now, when the team were all together again and his nightmares were gone.

“What did you dream about, Booker?”

Her abrupt change of topic threw him for a moment, she could tell.

“My sons. I dreamed of them when they came upstairs to keep my company as I packed the few things for a trip I was taking. I traveled so much when they were little, then Napoleon’s fool war… I missed so much, so many days I couldn’t get back. Days I squandered.”

“Thinking like that will only drive you mad.”

Booker let out a small huff.

“Too late, I already went mad. But I think I’m starting to come back around.”

Shandiin smiled.

“Good.”

“What did you dream about?”

She smiled. She too was just getting used to having regular dreams again, without fear of the nightmares of Quynh’s repeated deaths or of Nile’s fresh one.

“I dreamed I was back in Ireland, this little town I found a few years back, with a fishing pole in my hand and the rocky shore under my butt. The sun was hanging low but not yet set for the evening and most everyone was heading in for the afternoon.”

Booker smiled, picturing the scene.

“Sounds beautiful.”

“It was.”

“Perhaps, when we are back and safe, I should try the fishing there. I haven’t been to Ireland since… definitely not since the Internet, perhaps not since before WWI.”

“Maybe I’ll talk to Andy about us all taking a well-earned vacation to Ireland. You and I can teach Nile how to fish, Andy and Quynh can check out romantic sites, Joe and Nicky can check out other romantic sites.”

“Andy does love her fish and her booze, so Ireland seems like a natural fit.”

Shandiin playfully swatted him with the back of her hand. Booker reached, catching her hand to tug her closer so he could kiss her. He would never tire of this, of having her close, knowing she was back and welcoming of his presence.

Her hair was silky and sweaty between his fingers as he cradled the back of her head, deepening the kiss. Her strong, long fingers gripped his shoulders as she tilted her head to get a better angle.

“Booker?”

They separated to look up at Joe in the doorway. The man had a slight smirk as he stood in the doorway of the room they were all sharing to sleep in.

“Your turn on watch. Shans, Andy wants to talk to you in the kitchen.”

Joe walked off, leaving the two of them smiling, with Shandiin blushing a little while Booker wanted to growl. Perfect timing, as always.

“We’d better go.”

“Yeah.”, Shandiin agreed as she stood.

~^~^~^~^~^~

Copley looked at the data in front of him. This person was bad news. Very bad news.

The CIA, MI5, Mussaud, none of them could touch this guy. He had too many lines in too many powerful places, some of which were even known to be illegal or shady. With so many hooks in so many powerful places, he would need a very special group going after him.

Copley knew just the people. He began compiling info. He refused to send them in unprepared again.

In the meantime, there was a mission that could also use the particular skills of Andy and her full team. Down in Australia. He figured he would wait and let them have a day or two of downtime, in the safe house up in Florence, that Andy had said they would go to instead of heading to London as originally planned.

If anyone deserved a few days off to enjoy a family reunion, it was Andy and her team. They had the new kid, two MIAs who had returned, and it seemed Booker’s century-long time-out had been rescinded.

Copley was happy to hear Booker had been accepted back into the group. As an outsider looking in and knowing Booker as he did, he had feared for the man on his own. Booker was the most lonesome, broken man he had ever met. It had been clear that Andy, Nicky, and Joe had been all that was holding Booker together, like scotch tape on a broken Greek statue.

After losing his wife, Copley had not faired much better. He supposed it had been part of why he understood Booker so well and why both of them had been so easily taken in by Merrick. It was not hard to get past the defenses of someone with gaping wounds.

Copley glanced back at the computer that was compiling information on Hightower. The man was a big enough threat that Copley might try to at least suggest Andy be left behind. She would go anyway. Andy was a warrior, through and through.


End file.
